The Song of the Forge
by Miyako no Shinkohana
Summary: When whispers of rebellion sweeps across Amestris, Brigadier General Edward Elric is dispatched to apprehend the rebels at all costs. The only problem is that the rebels are twelve years in the past... Rating may change
1. Prologue

Title: The Heart of Everything: The Song of the Forge Volume 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

Summary: When whispers of a Rebellion sweeps across Amestris and a failed assassination reveals a terrifying plot against the State, Brigadier-General Edward Elric and Colonel Alphonse Elric are dispatched with orders to stop the rebels at all costs. The only problem is that the rebels have traveled twelve years into the past.

**Prologue**

A young man clad in the blue military uniform leaned against the railing of the roof, staring out pensively over the city, a lit cigarette held lazily in his hand as a gentle wind blew past, sending golden bangs fluttering around his face. At the age of twenty-six, Edward Elric was the youngest of the Generals that served in the military, just as ten years ago, he had been the youngest State Alchemist certified by the state of Amestris. Actually, he still held the record for youngest state alchemist in Amestris. He sighed as he took another drag from his cigarette.

Had it really been fourteen years? It felt like only yesterday that he had been a child arrogant in his surety that he could perform a forbidden art without repercussions, only to lose a leg and an arm for his stupidity, condemning his brother to an existence as a soul bound to a suit of armor, forever in fear of his existence being snuffed out due to damage to the blood seal.

It was different now, their quest to find the Philosopher's Stone had been a success after five long years of searching, and Alphonse had been restored to his body. Of course, due to sheer dumb luck, Edward had renewed his contract for another three years less than a month before he and Alphonse had reached their goals, and as a result, he couldn't leave the military right away. But then a year later, war had broken out, and Edward had sent Alphonse home to recover, because even after a year, Alphonse still wasn't used to having his body back, and as for Edward, he was sent to Drachma with the other Alchemists. Two years later, he'd returned to Central as a Lieutenant Colonel, and Mustang had been promoted to Brigadier General. That was the same year that Alphonse had applied to take the State Alchemy Exams and passed, and after two months, both been sent on a yearlong tour of Amestris with orders to stop the people from rebelling.

Now, three years later, the war was over, the incompetent Hakuro was still Fuhrer, Edward was a Brigadier General, Alphonse was a Colonel while Mustang was now a General, and while the military was busy keeping Central stable, the rest of the country was falling into pieces. Edward dropped the cigarette and ground it out with his heel. The blonde smiled sadly as he shook away the thoughts as he turned away from the railing, his now waist length braid swinging out behind him and froze as he heard the sound of footsteps in the stairway.

Instincts still active from the warzone drove him to press himself against the wall, slipping silently into the shadows, golden eyes narrowing as the door to the rooftop swung open, oft unused hinges squealing in protest. The first flicker of Amestrian colors leeched the tension from Edward's shoulders, but then inconsistencies brought the tensions flooding back.

Everything about the supposed soldier was meant to satisfy a cursory look in the corridors, but under the light of the midmorning sun? Eyes used to picking out Alchemists hidden in the enemy ranks immediately picked out the languid grace with which the presumed soldier walked. Every single member of the military that Edward had ever met never walked; they marched. Always, as if there was a silent drumbeat constantly sounding in their heads and ever since the Drachman War, even Edward found that he had to concentrate to walk normally instead of marching like the seasoned war veteran he was. Then there was the way the man carried himself, nothing like the straight backed posture of soldiers confident in their places and duties, he swayed and slouched like a cat on the prowl. The rank denoted on the shoulder boards was that of a Lieutenant, but not only were they on the wrong shoulders, but one was upside down, and the firearm in the holster was not a military issue sidearm. While it was not unusual for military personnel to carry nonstandard issue weapons, it was an unspoken rule that if it wasn't standard issue, it should not be carried openly.

Edward regulated his breathing, keeping each breath slow, deep, and even as he watched the soldier lean against the railing, eyes fixed on the parade ground below. Whatever he was watching for, Edward had a bad feeling that things were going to change, and rapidly.

The thought had barely crossed his mind when he saw the soldier straighten and reach for his gun. Edward placed his hand on his own sidearm, drawing it as he slipped out of the shadows, coming up behind and slightly to the left of the soldier. The gravel underfoot did not give so much as a crunch as he moved. Drachma had taught him more than he ever needed to know about moving silently through loose debris. Sharp golden eyes were peripherally aware of the soldier hefting his gun and taking aim, shifting as if he were tracking a moving target even as Edward scanned the parade ground, his eyes catching on a figure dressed in Amestris blue striding toward the Fire Compound where the Mess Hall was located. They were too far away for him to recognize the rank, but the Amestrian colors were all the confirmation Edward needed. He closed the distance between the assassin and himself in three swift steps, automail hand shoving at the hand holding the gun.

The firearm discharged, and the shot went wide, and even as the gunman's head turned toward Edward in surprise, Edward was bringing up his own firearm, clicking off the safety as he hefted it. He didn't even think about the target of the gunman's bullet, knowing that the target would have likely already taken cover. And despite being a military base, gunfire was not a common sound, therefore someone was bound to have raised the alarm, and someone else would be on their way to investigate. All Edward needed to worry about was to subdue the soldier and determine the target.

The soldier's free hand moved, and instinctively, Edward pulled the trigger. The force of the bullet pushed the man back against the railing, and Edward moved with the momentum, slamming the hand still holding the gun against the metal, forcing the soldier to release the weapon, and Edward jerked the soldier up, spinning him around and pinning his free arm between the railing and his body while twisting the captive arm up against his back. Edward pressed the muzzle of his firearm against the soldier's back between the shoulder blades, and he felt the man tense.

"Who was your target?" Edward hissed.

He felt more than saw the soldier's pinned arm shift, and without thinking, Edward shifted the gun down and to the right and pulled the trigger, heedless of the blood that splattered onto his previously immaculate uniform. The man jerked and a rough yell of pain cut through the air.

"Answer me," Edward barked, "Who was the target!"

"What do you care?" the man snarled, "All of Amestris knows you hate your commander."

"Mustang?" the name fell from Edward's lips in surprise.

Edward's grip must have slackened with his surprise, because suddenly, the soldier surged back against him, and as he stumbled back, the gun was kicked out of his hand. The blonde Brigadier-General didn't bother going after the gun, rather, as the soldier pulled a second handgun from under his coat, he darted toward the stairwell. He heard the sound of the gun being fired, and he clapped as he dived for cover. Red hot pain blossomed in his side and seared through him as he lost his grip on the alchemical energy. He writhed on the ground in pain, his gloves ripping as his hands scrabbled in the gravel that covered the roof and was only faintly aware that he was screaming, and then the door to the roof was flung open, and someone was calling his name. Edward was distantly aware of the roar of gunfire and a figure in Amestrian blue dropping to their knees beside him, his name on their lips. And all he could think of was that he needed to tell them who the gunman had been targeting…

"Target…" he rasped painfully, "Mustang…"

And then there was only darkness.

~*~

Maes Hughes hurried down the halls of the hospital, green eyes dark. The moment word had gotten to him that Edward had stopped an assassination against Roy but had been nearly killed for it; he'd sent out feelers and started digging. What he'd found was not much of a surprise.

It seemed that Hakuro had stepped on a lot of toes, and the people were uneasy. Edward had barely been able to stop a civil war by going town to town and assuring the people that he had allies in the military who felt the way he did and they were working on the problem. The word of the Fullmetal Alchemist, the People's Alchemist had soothed ruffled feathers, but people were still not pleased, but it had done the job of ensuring that Amestris would not have to fight themselves and Drachma at the same time.

At the moment, however, it had somehow gotten out that Edward was hurt, and it was because he had been trying to stop the assassination of someone high up in the military, and popular opinion was that it was because of some corrupt military official who wanted power.

True, mostly, Maes admitted to himself as he navigated the hospital toward Edward's room, but this time, even Edward's assurances probably wouldn't stop a civil war from breaking out. The common populous was furious that their champion among the State Alchemists had been injured in the name of the State, and Maes made a mental note to kill whomever had let that little tidbit slip out once he found them.

"Maes!"

Maes nodded at Roy and drew him aside, speaking rapidly as quietly as he could. He wasn't there simply because the people were restless, but because a part of the city had gone up in flames and the military police had discovered scattered notes and formulas. The theory behind an array of some sort, and in the two weeks since the failed assassination, different Alchemists had begun analyzing the notes and theories behind the scattered parts of the array were no closer to a breakthrough though there was a lot of speculation about it being a transportation array of some sort. With speculation running rampant, the higher-ups wanted to foist the entire thing onto Edward, who had a reputation for taking apart and breaking down unknown arrays and deciphering what they were for in anywhere from a few hours to a few days when it would have taken other Alchemists months or years.

The only problem was that it had been almost three weeks, and Edward still had not woken yet. It was troubling. Not even he had been unconscious for that long after the bullet Envy had nearly killed him with.

~*~

TBC…


	2. 1: Awakenings

Title: The Heart of Everything: The Song of the Forge Volume 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

Summary: When whispers of a Rebellion sweeps across Amestris and a failed assassination reveals a terrifying plot against the State, Brigadier-General Edward Elric and Colonel Alphonse Elric are dispatched with orders to stop the rebels at all costs. The only problem is that the rebels have traveled twelve years into the past.

**Chapter 1**

His entire body was a single mass of throbbing pain, and his leaden eyelids would not shift, however much he tried. His limbs seemed weighted down, and nothing would respond the way he wanted. He could hear the steady beeping a heart monitor and the rhythmic whooshing of a respirator, though the sounds were faint and tinny. He frowned mentally. Surely the assassin's bullet and the rebound had not damaged him that badly had it?

No, the fact that he was in a hospital hooked up to life support was proof enough of how badly his body had been damaged. Gate Above, how did he get into such situations? He'd spent years pursuing a goal that no one had ever achieved, and had achieved what many believed to be impossible. He'd survived a war and stayed in the military because he felt that his country needed him, and because he wanted to repay the debt that he'd incurred. And he'd gotten shot in the process of repaying that debt.

He'd been shot protecting _Mustang._ Mustang was being targeted by an _assassin_ for some unknown reason.

Oh. _Oh. _This was bad. Very bad. What if there was another one? Mustang had proven incapable of taking proper care of himself where his subordinates were concerned, so he had to get up and get Mustang back in the office here he'd be safe and away from guns in the hands of assassins. Time to get up, Edward. Must wake up. Get up, Edward! _Wake up! _Dammit, Wake UP!!!

Golden eyes shot open and lips parted in a sharp gasp that quickly led to gagging. There was something in his throat, it needed to come out. Must get it out! He couldn't _breathe_. Can't breathe! Get it _out!_

Hands were suddenly on his shoulders, pressing him down onto the bed as he struggled, and then there was Hughes and Mustang leaning over him, lips moving. Gate above help him, but he couldn't hear them through all the panicked shouting and his own struggles and raging heart as that thing in his throat choked him and the heart monitor displayed his distress for all the world to see and hear.

"Fullmetal!" Mustang's voice cut through the haze as he barked, "Breathe with the flow! Breathe, Edward, breathe! Relax and breathe!"

"Calm down, Ed," Hughes' voice was soft and soothing in comparison, "Breathe with the flow kid. Breathe. It will help you."

And like the obedient military dog that the war with Drachma had molded him into, Edward did as he was told and regulated his breathing to match the steady rhythm of the respirator. Immediately, the hands that were holding him down vanished, and other faces came into focus, doctors and nurses both as they checked the wires and tubes that were hooked into him. In the background was Mustang's staff, and at the door, a look of concern and fear still etched on his face, Alphonse, with Winry held to his chest, her face buried in his shoulder.

"Damn, but you scared us for a moment there, kid," Hughes said weakly, taking off his glasses and passing a hand over his face before putting the spectacles back on.

A doctor was leaning over him now. "Brigadier-General Elric?" he said, "Can you hear me?"

Edward nodded weakly. "Good, good," the doctor said, aiming a penlight into golden eyes. Edward blinked and the doctor moved the light to inspect the other eye. "Do you know where you are, Brigadier-General?" Edward nodded again as the doctor turned off the penlight and slipped it into a pocket. "Do you remember what happened?" Edward resisted the urge to roll his eyes and nodded. The doctor nodded. "I'm sure that Lieutenant General Mustang will want your report then. I'm removing the breathing apparatus."

Edward took a breath on his own as the tube was pulled out of his mouth and throat, and promptly fell into a coughing fit. His throat was dry and scratchy and hurt something awful. And immediately, a straw was placed on his lips and he took a sip of water, relaxing as the cool liquid soothed his abused throat.

"What happened?" his voice was hoarse.

"You were shot," Mustang's face was grim, "You said something about me being a target before you lost consciousness…"

Edward nodded grimly. "Yeah, at the time, all I knew was that he was targeting someone in Amestrian colors. It wasn't until I asked outright that I found out who the target was."

"Roy," Hughes' voice was grim.

"Yeah," Edward agreed quietly as he slipped away into the realm of sleep once more.

There was a sigh. "Get some sleep, Ed," Mustang said, "You earned some rest."

~*~

When Edward woke again, he found Hughes and Mustang at his bedside.

"So do you think you're up to a little desk work, Ed?" Hughes asked.

Edward frowned, "Why?"

"Several days after you were shot, the northern end of the city just went up in flames," Hughes said, "and the military police found some interesting things."

"Originally, the discovery was looked over by multiple different alchemists in different offices," Mustang added, "But then there was a lot of speculation as to what those arrays could do. All of the alchemists agreed on one thing, the array was meant to transport something, but what was or will be transported and the destination is currently unknown."

"The higher ups want me to look at the array then?"

"If it is a transportation array," Mustang said carefully, "the possibilities would be endless."

Edward's lips curved upward in a wry smile. "I doubt I'll be doing missions anytime soon," he said, "and it's not like I can say no, anyway. My curiosity won't let me."

Mustang nodded curtly. "I'll talk to the doctors about getting you discharged." He turned and left the room quickly.

"Is there any word on who might have ordered the hit?" Edward asked Hughes quietly.

Hughes shook his head, "The officer who arrived first on the scene, a Corporal Liam Pembrook, in Archives, ended up killing the assassin to keep him from killing you, so we couldn't get anything out of him. During the autopsy, however, the medical examiners did find that the assassin had an interesting tattoo on his forearm."

"And what does a tattoo have to do with anything?"

"You know the rebel faction that popped up during the start of everything with Drachma?"

"You mean the People's Army?"

"Yes. Turns out they have somehow gained a coat of arms and a motto. Both of which were tattooed on the assassin's forearm just below the elbow."

Edward frowned. "I have trouble believing that they'd gain something like a coat of arms and a motto without help. That they even have something like that, coupled with the assassin… It can't be a coincidence, but where and when and how would the rebels have gained such resources?"

"That's what we're trying to find out, kid."

"Have there been any other hits or unusual disappearances?"

"A few generals here and there, but nothing unusual for the military's political games."

Edward's frown deepened and Hughes knew that the blonde's sharp mind was putting together clues and speculation. The blonde shook his head. "There's not enough data to draw any conclusions. What we need is more information…" he sighed, "So where are those papers? I'd like to take a look at that array."

Hughes laughed, shaking his head. "They should be in Roy's office right now."

"What?!" Edward sat up, wincing minutely as scabbed over injuries were pulled and stretched by the motion, "Never tell me that the idiot left potentially important papers unattended in his office?! He's a General, and thus has access to confidential and important papers! He doesn't have the luxury of being careless! That bastard needs to get it through his head that he's not just a Colonel anymore!"

"Hawkeye's down there."

"His office has big windows, and his paperwork just sits there because he's always trying to get out of doing them."

Hughes blinked slowly and said carefully, "Hey Ed?"

"What?"

"I think you've been spending too much time with Hawkeye."

~*~

"Don't strain yourself, Brigadier-General," the doctor was saying as Edward signed the discharge papers. "Light duty only, and check in in a week or so just in case."

The trip to his office was a quick one, and Edward winced as he opened the door and was greeted to the sight of his desk stacked tall with paperwork. He sat down and flipped through the mounting stack of paperwork that had been steadily growing since his injury, and noted with amusement that they had been sorted into neat piles of urgent, important, necessary, marginally interesting, and boring, each labeled with a sticky note carrying Alphonse's precise handwriting. Obviously Alphonse and his aide, Lieutenant Alicia Herne had been busy while he'd been away.

Edward's own aide, Lieutenant Alexandria Clyne carried in a set of files. "Colonel Hawkeye said that you'd want to look these over, sir," she said, "Apparently it's some sort of array that other alchemists are having trouble deciphering."

Edward sighed and shook his head. "Set them on the couch over there. I'll look those over when I'm done with these. Geez, get hurt for a while and the entire office turns into a fire hazard…" He took his pen and began going through the paperwork, steadily working through the urgent business first and moving on to the important paperwork. He'd look at the less vital work later, but he needed to get through his paperwork before he could even trust himself to look at the documents about the unknown array.

~*~

Three days later…

"Oh…. Gate Above help us…"

This was not good. Who knew what damage could have been caused in the time it had taken for the array to have been deciphered? The Fuhrer needed to know about this…

~*~

TBC…


	3. 2: Chaos

Title: The Heart of Everything: The Song of the Forge Volume 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

Summary: When whispers of a Rebellion sweeps across Amestris and a failed assassination reveals a terrifying plot against the State, Brigadier-General Edward Elric and Colonel Alphonse Elric are dispatched with orders to stop the rebels at all costs. The only problem is that the rebels have traveled twelve years into the past.

**Chapter 2**

Edward Elric was furious as he stormed into Liuetenant-General Roy Mustang's office, muttering heatedly under his breath about fools and heresy.

"'_We don't have time to be chasing heresy, Brigadier-General. Rather than coming up with outlandish ideas, concentrate on dealing with the Rebels in Central…'_ my ass!" he snarled.

Mustang resisted the urge to sigh as he slid his reading glasses off his nose and set them carefully on his desk. Drachma had cooled his wayward subordinate's temper enough that the blonde almost never vented indiscriminately anymore. Of course, the few times the blonde reverted to his twelve year old mannerisms had been when he was well and truly furious, and it seemed now was one of those times.

"I should have known that it was too much to hope that you would have stopped heaping abuse on my door. What is it this time, Fullmetal?"

"Hakuro's what's wrong!" Edward hissed as he slammed the files onto his superior's desk. "Take a look at these and tell me what you see, and tell me that the Fuhrer isn't simply being a lazy ass when he's telling me that this is a joke!"

Mustang raised an eyebrow and decided to humor the young man. He picked up the file and flipped through it quickly, and his eyebrows moved toward his hairline as he skimmed the contents of the file. He laid it on his desk and looked his subordinate in the eyes.

"Edward, this isn't the time for jokes."

"Dammit, Mustang, just look at the array for a moment! Look at it! This curve here especially!"

Mustang gave a harried sigh as he glanced at the part of the array that Edward was indicating to and at the notes about the breakdown of the array in his hands. He decided to state the obvious, "That's the infinity symbol, Ed."

"Precisely! If we switched a few things, such as lengthening the line here and here, sharpen the curve here and here and here, and add a few elements over here, what do we get?"

"Ed… Now's not the time for alchemical theory. We need to figure out what the rebels were trying to send through the array and where whatever they're sending through is ending up."

"And I'm telling you that this array is telling us everything! There is a human element here," a gloved finger jabbed at one part of the array, "and a time element here," another finger jab, but toward a different part of the array this time, "and this part over here," yet another finger jab, "is the 'before' that we tend to use when we're trying to restore something to its original form, but combined with the other two elements, it rips open the time stream! Mustang, when have I been wrong? The rebels are trying to change time!"

"It's not that I don't believe you, Fullmetal, but do you have any idea how farfetched your idea is?"

Edward leaned forward and said quietly, "Look at your Alchemical Journal, Mustang, don't you notice differences? I've kept a record of everything I've seen and done since I first joined the military in my own Alchemical Journal, and I have memories of things that I know I've never done, that overlap with things recorded in my Journal, there are mission reports in Archives that I know I've never submitted and I know I've never been on any of those missions, and there are records of research that I know I haven't performed. It's been two months since I've started working on that array, three months if you include the discovery of the array up till now. Gate only knows how much damage could be caused by now, and we wouldn't even realize it because it's our past they're changing and our memories are probably changing with it! The paperwork in Archives is also changing to accommodate the changes, and it's only a matter of time before our personal paperwork and our memories stop showing the inconsistencies! And when that happens, then what?"

Mustang sighed and shook his head. "You know I can't let you just hare off the way you did when you were twelve, Fullmetal. I'll tell you the same thing I kept telling myself for the majority of the past ten years; You're not just a Colonel anymore. You're a Brigadier-General, and Brigadier-Generals cannot just rush off to follow a lead that could potentially turn out to be a dead end. Give me concrete proof that this is a good lead, just once piece of irrefutable evidence, and I can justify this as a mission."

"The mission reports in Archives and the personal notes I know you made in your Alchemical Journal. The array, my own word. That's all the proof I can give you, Mustang!"

Mustang sighed. "You've never outright lied to me before," the general said after a while. "Nor have your instincts ever been wrong when it comes to something like this. Fine. Stabilize the array and make it so it's permanent unless the gate is destroyed, and put together a team. I'll find a way to justify your mission, but you do not leave until I say so, understand?"

Edward saluted, the movement crisp and smooth with practice. "Understood sir."

"Very well. Dismissed, Brigadier-General."

The blonde nodded and left the office, closing the door quietly behind him before hurrying down to his own office to begin preparations. Two members of his staff, First Lieutenant Alexandria Clyne and Second Lieutenant Jonathan Hawthorne, who had been waiting for him a little ways down the hall, quickly fell into step behind him.

"Lieutenant Clyne, send word to Colonel Elric. I want to speak with him immediately concerning the array. Lieutenant Hawthorne, begin drawing up plans for a long term covert mission against the rebels and select the most level headed from our unit for the mission, spanning all possible skills and capabilities. Once we get the go ahead from Lieutenant-General Mustang, we'll be moving out. Get this done, as quickly as possible with all possible discretion."

"Yes sir!" Both Lieutenants hurried away to do their duties.

Edward paused and pulled open a door to an unused office, crossed it and stopped at the window and looked outside with cold amber eyes as he watched the rain fall. Whatever his thoughts were, Edward did not voice them out loud, not even to himself. He knew far too well that one of Hakuro's men was following him, listening to every word that left his lips. Only in his or Alphonse or Hughes or Mustang's office could he speak freely, because goodness only knew that their respective staff was hand picked for their loyalty and discretion when it came to the COs that selected them, and the offices were constantly searched for microphones and wiretaps and unwanted watchers and listeners. Edward knew far too well that the Fuhrer was not only incompetent, but also power hungry, and he knew that his reputation and influence frightened the Fuhrer because it was not Hakuro who held his leash.

Edward shook his head as he turned away from the window and crossed the empty office and made his way through the winding halls of Central Headquarters toward his office. Personally, he believed that the sooner Mustang and his allies set their coup into motion, the sooner he could actually start doing something useful rather than running around the country and trying, and failing, to keep the people from revolting. Of course, the time of the coup was up to Mustang's discretion, and all Edward and other officers could do until then was try to keep the damage Hakuro's incompetence caused minimal.

Ends and means after all, and Edward had grown into a good dog. Now if they could just keep Creta from declaring war on Amestris, things would be absolutely perfect. But first, he had an array to redesign.

~*~

A week passed and Edward shook his head as he marched through Central Headquarters toward a conference hall, several files under one arm. The original array had laid out the groundwork for the changes, but one could only wonder how well the redesigned array would work. He'd spent the better part of the week working on the array, sparing time only for the urgent paperwork or the work that was due immediately. This meeting, however, had nothing to do with the array, but rather, an investigation as to the location of the rebel organization that seemed to be based out of Eastern City.

Edward resisted the urge to snort in derision as he entered the conference hall, noting the gathering of Generals, among whom he and Mustang were the youngest.

"You are late, Brigadier General Elric," General Stadt said dryly.

"My apologies," Edward allowed his lips to curve upwards in a small, self-satisfied smile, "There was a break in one of the cases in my office that required my immediate attention."

On the other side of the room, Mustang's eye narrowed and he met Edward's eyes and tilted his head slightly in a silent question. Edward pretended to adjust his hold on the files in his hand, slipping one slightly out of the stack before quickly tucking it back into the pile in reply. Mustang lowered his eyes in a nod of understanding. He'd speak with his subordinate about what he had found later when the meeting was concluded.

~*~

"So, what did you find?"

"We can go right now if you can find me an alchemist for all four elements, or we can make a blood sacrifice to hold the gate open indefinitely."

"Fullmetal," Mustang's voice held a hint of warning.

Edward rolled his eyes and stepped around the desk to lean against it while still facing Mustang. "Bastard. You get more and more uptight the closer you are to your goal, you know that?" he muttered, and said in a more professional tone, "To make a semi-permanent gate, we'll need to draw the array in blood and stabilize it with all four elements. It's not going to be easy. I've looked into it and the array at it's smallest will still take up a quarter of this room. And since you want it to be semi-permanent, it's not exactly something that can be hidden easily."

"You're a prodigy, Edward. Come on, kid, use that head of yours."

Edward scowled. He hated when the Lieutenant General or the Major General spoke to him like when Edward had been twelve, but those had been simpler, happier times, and so Edward tolerated it. After everything they had been through, after everything that they had done, this little piece of heaven that could be found in reenacting scenes from the past was all they had until true peace could be achieved—until the incompetent Hakuro was ousted and a competent Fuhrer was elected.

For Edward, the day that the unrest ended couldn't come quickly enough. Edward was tired of giving the commands to send his people out to die, tired of lying through his teeth to people who looked up to him for just another day of not having to order his soldiers to aim their guns at Amestrian civilians, tired of waking to hearing gentle hearted Alphonse screaming and crying in his sleep as he relived his sins while dressed in Amestrian blue and gold, and most especially, tired of each day in which the unrest continued and the country fell apart because of the military's inaction and the people began to trust him less and less and Edward's unofficial title of the People's Alchemist became more and more of a joke to the common man.

The golden haired Brigadier General swept the papers back into their folder. "Fine. I'll talk with Al and tweak the array some more and we'll get back to you ASAP."

Mustang nodded. "By the end of the week at the very latest, Fullmetal. Don't be late." Then there was a sudden roar and the two generals' heads jerked up to stare that the ceiling as there was a muffled thump.

"Gate above…" Edward breathed. He'd been a soldier long enough to recognize the sound of gunfire, and the sound of a body falling. And if the look on Mustang's face was any indication, the dark haired general recognized the sound as well. "Isn't this office directly under the Fuhrer's?" Edward asked slowly.

"Shit!"

Mustang shoved his chair back violently and checked his arrayed gloves and the two generals were out the door and checking their side arms as they ran down the hall. Seconds later, the sound of running footsteps began to echo through the compound and frantic yelling started.

~*~

There was only chaos. Generals rushed from one meeting to the next, officers went missing and fake documents popped up everywhere. Edward found himself on yet another tour of the country to keep the populous under control, because the Fuhrer had just been assassinated in the heart of military territory and there was rioting in the streets and the rebels were getting more and more active, there were numerous bombings and derailed trains, and the walls of the Military families estates had to be painted and repainted because of graffiti, and the Military Police and Civilian Police and Military Academy cadets and common enlisted soldiers alike were being attacked for no other reason than the fact that they wore a uniform.

It had been the same drill over and over for the past two weeks since Fuhrer Hakuro had been assassinated inside of Central City Military Headquarters. Edward spent most of his time on a train moving from city to city, village to village and town to town, and while his reception was not as warm as when he'd been a teenager, he was the Fullmetal Alchemist, and his hosts were accommodating enough to his needs. He was being bombarded with information at every turn, every face was that of a potential enemy, supplies were scarce; time was scarce, goodness, where did all the time go? Edward waded through paperwork on the train, met with city officials, spoke with military personnel overseeing mining towns, met with contacts, reported back to Mustang over the phone, waded through more paperwork during his infrequent meals, met with personnel in the outposts, dodged assassins, went through yet more paperwork, worked on his array, sifted through the information gathered by his contacts and staff, and attended meetings that tended to end in fearful and belligerent yelling which tended to result in nothing getting done.

As the month drew to a close, the chaos lessened, and wonders of wonders, work was somehow getting done. Likely, it had something to do with the calming influence of more level headed generals, all of whom had collaborated with Mustang about Edward's theories concerning the array, and had come to the conclusion of better safe than sorry. As a result, Edward had been recalled to Central Command for the sole purpose of selecting the staff that he would be taking through the Gate, and to put together a story for the Fuhrer that would not give away the future beyond the fact that Edward Elric and Alphonse Elric had moved up in the military hierarchy while simultaneously justifying sending troops into the past and not giving away any information about the array that was used for the journey. The last thing anyone wanted to deal with was murderous Homunculi with the ability to travel through time wreaking Gate only knew what sort of havoc.

Edward winced at the thought and set down his pen and turned to stare out the window at the scenery as the landscape blurred past.

"Is something wrong, sir?" First Lieutenant Alexandria Clyne's voice broke through his thoughts.

"I was just thinking," Edward said, "The Homunculi were the enemy for the majority of my adolescent years, and even now, almost a decade later, we still consider them the enemy since we're still cleaning up the messes that Bradley left behind, messes that were exacerbated by Hakuro's incompetence. If things go according to plan, we're going to have to collaborate with Pride and Sloth, which means that we will essentially be working with the enemy." He sighed and added in a wry tone, "I should not need to express my opinion on the subject of working with one's enemies."

"No sir," Clyne answered. Her Commanding Officer's loathing of having to work with anyone whom he disliked was as legendary in the military as his childhood fights with the Lieutenant General Mustang.

Edward sighed and pulled out his pocket watch to check the time before slipping it back into his pocket and replacing the cap on his pen. The train lurched as it slowed, and the scenery changed from country landscapes to the urban jungle that was Central City. Edward and his aide took this as the signal to prepare to leave and the pair quickly set to work sweeping papers into the appropriate folders and envelopes before packing them into briefcases and boxes. Once most of the papers were safely packed away, Edward smoothed out the creases on his uniform and adjusted his jacket and leaned back in his seat even as Clyne packed away the pens and letter opener and the smaller, miscellaneous items that had been necessary for finishing up the paperwork.

The train lurched to a stop, and Edward stood up and glanced out the window, watching through cool golden eyes as the platform filled as people jostled to get off or on the train. He calmly adjusts his collar and tilts his chin up and squares his shoulders and gets off the train, his aide following calmly behind him.

~*~

Jean Havoc leaned against the side of the black, military issue car, leisurely smoking a cigarette as he scanned the platform for a hint of gold and a flash of Amestrian blue. There! He watched as a blonde youth disembarked from the private car attached to the end of the train that bore the crest of the Amestrian military. Havoc took a long drag from his cigarette as he considered the cool slant of the eyes, and set of the shoulders and the tilt of the chin. The golden haired youth, no longer a child, and well on his way into manhood, caught an aged matron by the elbow as she stumbled, and helped her steady herself and gave her a warm yet cocksure smile with a cool lift of his brows to let the light into his eyes as she smiled and patted his chest and tottered away. Havoc shook his head as he dropped the cancer stick and ground it out with the heel of his boot as the Brigadier General and his aide made his way through the crowd toward him. Brigadier General Edward Elric was beginning to show a startling resemblance to a particular dark haired General in his younger years, and there was concern that the auric youth would follow in his CO's footsteps and become a notorious womanizer. With his looks, the results of that would be devastating.

Havoc grinned at his superior officer whom he'd watched grow up from a temperamental yet attractive twelve year old Major to the collected and mercurial Brigadier-General that he was now at twenty-six.

"Hey Boss," he called lightly as he opened the driver door, "How was the trip?"

"About as much fun as an aggravated chimera on steroids," was Edward's dry reply. "Did the General get any work done?"

Havoc slipped into the driver's seat as the Brigadier-General slouched in the backseat and his Lieutenant took the front passenger seat. "Some," Havoc chuckled, "Hawkeye's been hair trigger since this mess started."

"And no doubt he's left a good portion of the mess for me to deal with."

"Al's been taking care of the extra work," Havoc admitted.

"What?!" Edward straightened, his eyes flashing, "That damned lazy ass bastard! How dare he make Al do the work he's too lazy to deal with!"

Havoc laughed as the car pulled away from the platform as the Brigadier General continued to rave furiously in the backseat. No matter how similar to a young Roy Mustang that Edward Elric was becoming, he was still Ed Elric whose insubordination and mercurial temper were infamous across the length and breadth of Amestris. He caught from the corner of his eye, the amused and indulgent smile on Ed's Lieutenant's lips. And was that a sparkle of exasperated fondness in Ed's eyes? Havoc chanced a glance into the rearview mirror as Edward lost his steam and slouched in the backseat, looking for all the world as if he were twelve all over again.

"Reminds you of the good old days when we were all young and trying to keep you and Al out of the darker side of the military doesn't it?" Havoc wondered.

"Happier times, Havoc," Edward agreed, turning his head to look out the window at the passing scenery, "Happier times…"

~*~

TBC…


	4. 3: Crossing

Title: The Heart of Everything: The Song of the Forge Volume 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

Summary: When whispers of a Rebellion sweeps across Amestris and a failed assassination reveals a terrifying plot against the State, Brigadier-General Edward Elric and Colonel Alphonse Elric are dispatched with orders to stop the rebels at all costs. The only problem is that the rebels have traveled twelve years into the past.

**Chapter 3**

"_Happier times, Havoc,"_ he'd said, _"happier times."_

And it was true, those were the days when they'd all been relatively carefree, when the entire office only watched Mustang's drinking habits when pressure from the higher ups got to be too much or when he hit a particularly spectacular set back, and most especially, when the two Elric brothers had found themselves up to their ears in trouble, which actually happened more often than any of them liked, much to their chagrin. Back when Edward was still in his adolescence, they mostly worried that Edward's insubordination would get him into trouble with the wrong people, and that Mustang would get caught at work with a hangover. Back then, every waking moment had not been filled with worry of the death of friends or family, or even one's own death or the enemy flashing past them and getting into the camps or even reaching a civilian city or town too late to stop the enemy from massacring the men and raping the women and looting supplies and then razing the entire place to the ground. There wasn't the ever present fear that the civilians in the town or village or city they were passing through would attack them; that the soldiers and State Alchemists who wore Amestrian blue and gold would have to fight their own people before they could reach the battlefields where the soldiers of the opposing countries were stationed. Before Edward had turned sixteen, before he was of the age of consent, things were good and calm and peaceful and the sky was not dark with smoke and the air wasn't heavy with gunpowder and ash and the screaming of the wounded and dying, and he simply took the orders even if he only half obeyed them and Edward never considered that he would give the orders to raze an enemy town to the ground, never imagined that he would actually go out to Drachma and alchemize a whole city block into so much dust along with anyone inside the buildings in front of him…

Edward gasped as he jerked himself upright in the backseat of the car, forcibly yanking himself from the poisonous deluge of memories of bodies strewn liberally throughout ruined streets and bloody mud that coated the rubble and flames and smoky air overlaid with the scent of gunpowder and the sounds of screaming and the roar of gunfire and the spark of alchemic reactions even as the heavens released a downpour of rain which, with the right arrays would be a rain of deadly acids or poisons instead of water…

"Brigadier-General?" Lieutenant Clyne asked, twisting in the front passenger seat to fix concerned green eyes on her hyperventilating Commanding Officer, "Are you alright, sir?"

"I'm fine," Edward gasped as he tilted his head, allowing his bangs to fall forward and shield his face even as he clenched his shaking hands into fists, "I'm fine…"

Havoc sighed. "Should've expected this," he shook his head and grinned at the blonde, "Its okay, Chief. All of this stress has got to all of us. Just the other day, Boss took a nap during his lunch break and woke screaming half an hour later. Good thing for the secretary that walked through the door right that moment he wasn't wearing his gloves."

Edward lifted his head and gave a shaky smile, "I'll bet he had a shot of whisky then took her out for dinner to make up for the scare."

"You've been with us too long if you can guess Mustang's habits like that, Ed," Havoc teased. "What, do you keep track of how much he drinks like the rest of us?"

"I have to know how much he'd been drinking to avoid pushing him over the edge."

"You manage that even when he's sober, Brigadier," Clyne said wryly.

Edward allowed himself to relax at the teasing of his subordinates, their banter chasing away the last vestiges of the memories from the battlefields from the forefront of his mind. He was grateful for this, because without the people around him, the ones that he trusted, that Mustang and Alphonse and Hughes trusted, he'd never have survived the war, and he knew full well that as good as he was, he'd never have been able to stay steady on his feet in all of this chaos without them.

~*~

Officers from all across Amestris had been summoned to Central Headquarters, and the meeting, unlike previous meetings, were not held in the War Room, but the General Assembly Hall. Edward had always hated the Assembly Hall from the first time he'd entered it at sixteen as a Major beside Mustang to serve as his aide because Hawkeye was neither an alchemist nor of the proper rank and clearance. Edward was not out of place as he had not been the only Major present as an aide to a superior officer and the Hall had been filled with all officers ranked Lieutenant Colonel and above. Edward had known even then that it was bad when an Officer's meeting of this magnitude was held in the Assembly Hall, because inevitably, it meant war. He shook himself out of his thoughts and reached out to turn the doorknob and push one of the massive double doors open.

The Assembly Hall was packed with bodies; the five full Generals at the front facing the rest of the room, with the other higher ranks facing then in neat rows, and behind the Generals and the Colonels. Edward could tell at a glance that Alphonse was already present and making polite conversation with one of his fellow Colonels while Hughes and Mustang were talking in low voices while crossing the room. Edward moved through the crowd, exchanging greetings and making small talk in hushed murmurs as he made his way toward his place in the throng. Five minutes later, the five full Generals at the front of the room spoke to each other quickly and quietly, and simultaneously stepped forward. The room full of officers immediately fell silent and in unison, they all saluted. Trained military dogs indeed, Edward thought wryly as he stood at attention surrounded by his peers.

The meeting began easily, with the nomination of a new Fuhrer-Elect, the position of which was awarded to Olivia Armstrong. Then the true reason behind the gathering of Officers began and the atmosphere seemed to thicken as tensions started to run high. Edward saw Mustang shift slightly to give him a wry look from behind long, dark lashes, and Edward shifted his shoulders in a gesture that asked _what can you do?_ And Mustang's lips twitched in an amused smile that said, _not much unfortunately._

All too soon, Mustang was speaking, carefully laying out the foundations for the mission that he had been trying to push through for Edward, revealing tidbits here and there, and then the Fuhrer-Elect was speaking, and Edward knew without a doubt that this had all been planned beforehand. And then it was Edward's turn, and he wondered as he laid out the reports and described the situation as well as multiple theories, how was he going to describe the complexities of recreating and then altering an array to a roomful of non-alchemists but for the odd handful here and there? How would he describe the potential dangers of what was being proposed to these people who saw State Alchemists as little more than obsessive bookworms and living weapons? How could he justify the potential risks that accompanied the mission if they decided to go through with it?

But he managed it, somehow, and the gathered officers were now discussing what sort of operation this mission would be, who would command it—"Brigadier-General Elric and Colonel Elric, of course!" Hughes said, "They know the most about the array, and should be able to compensate as necessary!"—who would be sent, what skills would be necessary, how regular reports would be delivered—"Just send a Private or a Corporal through once a week," Mustang shrugged, "Fullmetal assures me that the Gate can made into a fixed, semi-permanent portal."—and who would be best to make contact with if needed and what the official story would be if they had to talk to someone truly high up, like say, the Fuhrer. It was going to be a big mission, and eventually, it was decided that parameters of the mission was not so broad that it would necessitate the input of every ranked officer in Amestris, and the meeting was adjourned.

~*~

It was almost two weeks before all the preparations for what amounted to a large scale covert operation was completed. And so, noon of January 12 found a force of two hundred soldiers, including the ten who were members of Edward and Alphonse's respective staffs, all prepared to depart even as Edward and Alphonse put the finishing touches on the semi-permanent gate that would take them through time.

"Remember to send back regular reports," Mustang was saying, "Major-General Hughes and I will come down personally to check on you once a month, and if you can't trust the messenger, report personally. Also, Brigadier-General, remember that your Assessment is in two months. Just because you will be technically out of the country is no reason not to hand in your assessment report. I will let you know the date for your assessment once it has been finalized."

"In other words, I get less than twenty four hours warning. Thanks a lot, bastard," Edward muttered as he carefully closed the circle and sat back on his heels, sticking the chalk behind his ear and brushing the chalk dust off his gloves. "There, finished. What about you, Al?"

Alphonse was busy attaching slips of paper with arrays on them to the baggage nodded absently as he checked and quadruple checked to make sure each array was perfect and that it had been attached correctly and would not fall off. The arrays told the Gate that the bags and their contents were to go through with the rest of the group, and having one of the arrays get lost meant that they would have to rely on Bradley's armory for the lost materials, something none of them wanted. "Mostly done, brother. Just a few more seconds…"

"You shouldn't need more than twenty four hours to hand in your assessment report, Fullmetal," Mustang said with a smirk, "Because first of all, as far as the military is concerned, your assessment is little more than a formality. Secondly, you said that the Gate is semi-permanent so there should be no reason why you can't hand in your assessment report."

Edward sighed, "Wonderful."

"All done, Brother!" Alphonse chirped as he came to stand by his brother's side. "So we should be expecting to see you for our assessments later?"

"For Fullmetal, yes, for you, we don't know yet," Mustang shrugged, "The longer the mission takes, the greater the possibility."

"Madame Fuhrer's not here yet?" Maes Hughes asked as he entered the room. "Odd. Usually she's the first to see off expeditions of this size."

"You're talking about previous Fuhrers, Major-General Hughes," Alphonse said dryly. "The good Madame Armstrong talks privately to the leaders of major missions and then sends them off. I don't think she likes the previous Fuhrers' pomp and circumstance."

"Gee, you think?" Edward drawled, "She would have done away with the entire inauguration ceremony if the other Generals had let her."

"Alright, that's enough," Mustang said, smirking. "Everyone is ready? Nothing left behind, no stoves left on, no taps left running, pets taken care of, caretakers arranged for children, side-arms functional and extra under things all packed?"

"Stop fussing Mustang," Edward snapped, "You're worse than a mother."

"Then how about a father, Ed?" Hughes grinned as he draped an arm around the two blonde boys. "Everything packed? Extra ammo, weapons as needed, papers for identification and mission justification if you end up in front of Fuhrer Bradley, a change of clothes, uniforms formal or not, money, snacks, etcetera?"

"We have everything," Alphonse responded, "and our staff will have made sure that whatever is necessary has been packed, and maybe some things that aren't necessary also."

"And we have plenty of money on us," Edward agreed, "Two thousand Cenz each in case of emergencies, so whatever we didn't bring, we can buy, within reason."

"And if you can't buy whatever was left behind because you need to fill out requisition forms for them?" Hughes asked, looking worried.

"Then we will temporarily liberate it from the armory or send someone back for it," Aphonse said with a secret smile.

"Well, in that case, we won't have to worry," Hughes said happily as he slung an arm around Mustang's shoulders. "Well Roy boy, let's see our precious little boys off!"

Edward and Alphonse exchanged exasperated looks and chorused, "We're not children any more Hughes!"

"Still our cute little boys!" Hughes singsonged.

Roy shook his head, "Alright, let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

Edward stepped back, and Hughes turned serious as the two Elrics knelt down next to the array. "Good Luck boys."

Edward and Alphonse's hands paused a hair's breadth away from the array and the two older men felt a tinge of concern as the Elric brothers exchanged an unusually serious look and Edward nodded.

"Thanks."

"We'll definitely need it," Alphonse agreed as at an unspoken signal, the two brothers pressed their hands onto the outer circumference of the array in a manner reminiscent of when they had both been ten and nine respectively sparking the events that led to where they were now.

"This is somewhat nostalgic," Edward remarked dryly as the portal glowed, and snapped open to reveal several shocked alchemists and soldiers in Mustang's old office in Eastern Headquarters.

"Very much like that day, isn't it?" Alphonse agreed. "And just like that day, the alchemy we work with will change the course of the future."

Mustang shook his head slightly with a minute smile before he schooled his expression and raised his head high and stepped through the portal with Edward following him at the proper distance on his right. "Good afternoon," he said to the flabbergasted soldiers, repressing his amusement at his younger self who was busy gawping in comparison to Edward's younger self who was watching them with uncomfortably sharp eyes, "I apologize if I'm interrupting something important. I am Lieutenant-General Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist, and my subordinate, Brigadier-General Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist. _(Edward inclined his head slightly when his superior officer introduced him and tried not to smile at the younger Mustang's surprised yelp at his rank.)_ We are from two decades --"

"Fourteen years sir," Edward corrected gently with a wry smile at the younger Hawkeye who rolled her eyes with a twitch of her lips. Ah, the more things changed…

Mustang twitched and amended himself without missing a beat, "Fourteen years into the future, your future, our present. We have cause to believe that an extremist rebel faction may have made use of an advanced alchemic theory to travel back through time in an attempt to assassinate key military figures and to change history as we know it. As such, Her Excellency, Madame Fuhrer Olivia Armstrong has designated Brigadier-General Edward Elric and Colonel Alphonse Elric as mission leaders and both have orders to stop the rebels by any means necessary. It is our hope that we will have the cooperation, if not assistance, of our former counterparts to preserve our country's mutual future."

There was a shocked silence, and finally the silence was broken, not by Fuhrer King Bradley as was expected, but by a surprising source…

"The array that was used to open a gate between our two times, how exactly did you calibrate and ground it to make it semi-permanent?" Basque Gran asked looking interested.

The golden haired Brigadier-General perked up and gave the dark skinned brigadier-general an amicable smile and said, "The grounding was actually very simple! A five point seal to start off and bolster the modified Third Point in Hartford's Theory of Octagonal Diagramming combined with a modified form of the Forrester Diagram—" Mustang (the Lieutenant-General not the Colonel) cleared his throat and Edward deflated slightly and finished off with, "—would do it." He glanced at Mustang and added a sheepish, "Sorry sir."

Fuhrer Bradley shook his head and chuckled, "Alchemists," he laughed, "Obsessive bookworms, the lot of you." He brought himself back under control and said, "We will be happy to temporarily house Brigadier General Elric and Colonel Elric as well as any staff or troops that accompany them during this mission. We will be more than happy to assist in anyway necessary. If there is anything you need, please do not hesitate to ask."

The two generals saluted and barked, "Thank you, Fuhrer Bradley, sir!"

Edward turned slightly and nodded to Alphonse who hefted his pack and barked, "Form up!" The waiting soldiers immediately scurried forward to grab the packs and supplies, and once everything was gathered, Alphonse barked again, "Move out!"

And they moved through the gate. Colonel Roy Mustang only had one thought as the soldiers from the future marched through the gate and into his office and his young subordinate stared at the human form of his brother's older self in awe, new hope kindling in golden eyes.

_Things are going to get quite interesting…_

~*~

TBC…


	5. 4: Assessment

**Title:** The Heart of Everything: The Song of the Forge Volume 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

**Summary:** When whispers of a Rebellion sweeps across Amestris and a failed assassination reveals a terrifying plot against the State, Brigadier-General Edward Elric and Colonel Alphonse Elric are dispatched with orders to stop the rebels at all costs. The only problem is that the rebels have traveled twelve years into the past.

**A/N:** Many thanks to EmpireFiefAstor for the battle sequences that made this chapter possible! Changes to the chapter! Thanks to my beta, FleetInquisitorSaraiyu for pointing out that there are discrepancies in the relationship between Lt. General Mustang and B.G. Elric. As a result, this chapter has been completely reworked!

**Chapter 4**

Once the Fuhrer and Brigadier General Gran had left with the older _(and human! Imagine that!)_ Alphonse to arrange housing for the soldiers and an office for the staff from the future, and the older version of Roy had returned to the other side of the Gate after a quick conversation in hushed tones with Ed's older self, the older version of himself waved jauntily with a bright smile. Brigadier Ed _(Brigadier-General! How had that happened?)_ responded with a curt nod _(not so strange considering that he was now a Brigadier General, but who would have thought that Ed would stay military when it was obvious that he'd achieved his goals?) _and Colonel Al _(he was having trouble wrapping his mind around kind, sweet, armor bound Al having Colonel stars on his shoulders)_ responded with a small smile and returned the wave and the two older generals left. The recently promoted Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes paused and mused wryly at how strange this line of thinking was. But then again, admittedly, it wasn't every day that soldiers from the future, including one's own elder self from the future went to the past to try to save the country.

Cool golden eyes swept over them and Maes shivered as the Brigadier-General said in smooth, measured tones, "Edward Elric. Come." And he stalked out of the office. He paused at the door when it became obvious that his younger counterpart was not moving and said coldly without turning, "_Now_ boy. I am neither Major-General Hughes nor Lieutenant-General Mustang. I have not the patience to deal with your adolescent brooding."

He was having trouble reconciling this older, colder, and presumably more cynical Edward who seemed to only thaw in the presence of his CO with their own younger, more temperamental and sweet hearted Ed. "Go," Hughes whispered, "He's your older self. I doubt he'll do more than give you a bruise."

"He sounds like General Humbolt in a bad mood," Ed muttered as he shuffled forward.

Maes found himself swallowing hard at the child's pert reply. Was it from amusement or concern from the dark look that crossed what was visible of the Brigadier General's face? He resisted the urge to follow the two when the Brigadier General dropped his right hand onto Ed's shoulder and steered him out of the office.

~*~

Ed had been surprised when a gloved hand fell lightly onto his shoulder and looked up as he was steered out of the office and blinked as he noticed a corner of the Brigadier's lips twitch.

"I'm not that bad," Edward murmured once they were out of sight and earshot, "You should have seen Mustang after Alphonse destroyed a garage full of military vehicles in Western City. For want of explosives…" he shook his head minutely, "And he thought my leveling cities were bad."

His eyes were distant as he added, "I needed to speak with you before the Major General lets the Lieutenant General know that they just left me alone in a roomful of regrets. Remember, Ed, if you make people see only what they expect, you'll get predictable. They expect you to loose your temper, so they'll rile you up or attack your brother. If you act from the heart too often, you loose the capacity to act for the good of many. There will be times when you must make hard decisions, but you need to learn to sacrifice one for many. You also have to stop bringing Al with you on missions. It's not fun waking up to hear him screaming in nightmares because of what he's seen. Especially after Drachma…"

Ed stared at his older self who was considering a door before opening it and steering him inside and closing it behind them.

"Stop coddling Al," the Brigadier said firmly. "Don't let him follow you every where. He can't grow like this. All he'll do is become a miniature you. Learn to accept and ask for help when you need it, and trust Mustang. He doesn't show it well, but he has your best interest at heart. Wear the uniform to your assessment, and think before you act. A cannon looks impressive but is simply overdone, and considering who Mustang is, he can turn your weapons against you, especially if they have a penchant for exploding to begin with. You know other forms of alchemy, more subtle forms of alchemy. Use them. Don't overestimate yourself, and I know Trisha Elric taught you manners, use them. Believe me when I say that a little etiquette solves more problems than screaming and hitting someone."

"I don't know how many things have changed because of the mere presence of the future in the past, so be careful. Wear your uniform when on military grounds. Don't take unnecessary risks. Keep a weapon on you at all times if Mustang hasn't let you keep your own sidearm yet. Be alert, be polite, watch what you say, and most importantly don't loose your temper."

Ed watched as his older self fished a scrap of paper out of a pocket and handed it to him. "Memorize this and then destroy it. These are things that should be avoided if at all possible. The future is not as wonderful as it looks. The more things change, the better, and maybe we won't end up in a war. Be careful, Ed, and good luck."

Ed stared blankly at the scrap of paper in his hands as his older self left the room closing the door quietly behind him. The first paragraph read:

"_I fear not Death by that Wrought of Human Hands. I fear only the Shatter Glass within me, for where fore shall I find Succor if not within the Flame of mine Heart? Harken unto me! For the Pain and the Sorrow and our Mistakes! Open your eyes! Will our Sins be Justified? Falling Asleep from our Vanity may cost us our Lives! Shall we beg the Sky to Redeem us in Our Fallen Hour? This is the Heart of Everything."_

A code then. Ed carefully folded the slip of paper and slipped it into his watch. He'd study the code later in the library. Ed held the watch for a moment, his eyes tracing the crest of the Amestrian Military that was emblazoned on the cover as he considered the future. Was that what he was going to become? Someone who put up fronts and obeyed orders, bending them only when there was no one to see?

No. there was no difference between him and the Brigadier General. He'd simply become more cautious about when he broke and bent the rules and had become more subtle in how he went above and beyond his duty, that was all. But just what had driven the change in him?

"Unless the tension with Drachma got out of hand before my contract expired?" Ed asked empty air.

And if that were the case, it would explain a lot. More than likely then that he had succeeded in returning Al to his body, only for war to break out. At some point, Al would have followed him into the Military, and even after the war ended they might have been saying after this mission, after this mission. At some point, had that one mission been followed by another, and another, until they'd reached a point when all thought had left their minds about ever leaving the military?

Ed knew himself better than anyone, and he had no doubt that was the case. And his older self wanted to step in and stop the cycle before it ever started. What would happen in the future that even his older self would risk completely rewriting history to spare him?

~*~

Eastern Headquarters, Front Steps

June 23, 1902, 1400 Hours

Time passed, and the day of Ed's (the major not the Brigadier General) Battle Assessment arrived. There had been neither hide nor hair seen of the troops from the future, and at some point, a curtain had been erected by the future on their side to hide the gate, and Ed and Roy had worked with Basque Gran to erect an alchemical barrier_---"I don't see the need for a barrier, Colonel Mustang," Brigadier Elric said, "The office that the Gate opens into is mine, and the brigade, both Colonel Elric's and mine, will be moving through the Gate quite often. Not only that, but your entire staff is already aware of the presence of the Gate. At this point, hiding it is somewhat redundant."---_to hide the gate from the rest of the hordes of alchemists currently in Eastern Headquarters.

Roy sighed as he stood at the top of the steps of Eastern Headquarters and studied the crowd below. The day after the arrival of the troops from the future had seen him, Ed, and Brigadier-General Basque Gran working in the library, devising ways to keep the arrival of the future a secret despite the number of soldiers and alchemists who had been present for their arrival. The day after that had been spent setting up the barriers only for some little glitch to cause a rebound, bringing his older self running with a much aged version of the Strong Arm Alchemist close on his heels to grab the rebound and drag the alchemy back under control _(To think that alchemy had progressed to such a point! Basque Grand had all but salivated at the thought of having access to such information. The number of alchemists who hesitated to experiment for fear of rebound as well as the number of rebound related injuries would go down drastically!)_ from their side of the gate while the older versions of Ed and Al had gone over the notes for the barrier_---"Brother is right," Colonel Elric murmured, "And while your work habits as a General are impressive, I remember your tendency to procrastinate at this age, and the alchemical reaction when we take down the barrier to cross the Gate will only serve to distract you…."---_and fixed the glitch. Once the barrier had been set up, Ed had vanished with the excuse of research, and no one, not even Al, had been able to find him since.

"I can see Alphonse, but I don't see Edward, sir," Hawkeye said behind him.

"Where is the brat?" Roy muttered irritably. "He'll loose his certification if he doesn't show. I would have thought that he cared more about Al than that."

A soldier passed them, making his way down the steps of the Headquarters, and Roy caught the gleam of silver chain at the hip and a flash of gold and a hint of a wry smile under the brim of the soldier's hat and Roy's eyes widened. Since when did Edward Elric wear the uniform willingly when he was not being forced, kicking and screaming into it for inspection?

"Well," Roy said nonchalantly after he had pulled himself together, "I suppose we had better head down then…"

"Yes sir," Hawkeye said calmly as the pair descended the steps and entered the parade ground.

Once there, Roy faced his young subordinate from across the parade ground, taking in the teenager's sudden acquisition of the proper military posture. Strange, he thought, where has all the time gone? It seemed as if just yesterday Ed was the twelve year old boy who showed up in Central City determined to take the State Alchemy exam and pass. When had Ed started to look so professional?

So caught up in his thoughts was he, that Roy found himself blindsided a wave of flower petals, which, to his surprise, sliced through clothes and skin alike.

"What the hell?!" Roy gasped, clasping a gloved hand to his face and pulling it away to see a red stain on his fingers as a gust of wind carried the petals away from the Colonel to swirl around Ed.

The teenager smiled, "I used to transmute flowers for mom and make them dance for her when she was sick. I figured if they can be used to entertain, they can be used to fight."

"Ostentatious does not necessarily equate to effective, Fullmetal!" Roy clicked his fingers.

"Useless," Ed stated as his hands curled and the petals swirled up in a mass of shimmering pink, and the resulting explosion threw up a cloud of dust and scattering the fragile blades. The teen took the chance to leave the general area and dove into the crowd of soldiers who had been swallowed by the dust cloud.

The dust settled and Roy frowned as he turned slowly, narrowed onyx eyes searching the empty arena as he held his fingers ready to snap. Slowly, he allowed himself to smirk. "So that's why you wore the uniform today, Fullmetal?" he called, "I was wondering about that. Unfortunately, hiding won't help if your opponent knows your weakness and can flush you out with it…." He paused for a moment for effect and called mockingly, "Short stuff!"

Outside the circle of spectators, Ed ground his teeth, forcibly biting back the impulse to give himself away with one of his usual rebuttals, shouted at top volume, to the Colonel's jab at his height. He'd spent every free moment he could since his older self had come through the Gate in the Colonel's office going through the note for clues and memorizing the instructions. And when he wasn't doing that, he was sifting through the alchemy that he'd performed for his mother, revising it so the simplistic beauty of transmuted flowers floating on an alchemically created breeze would become a flurry of beautiful and unassuming blades that would cut and slice through cloth and skin and flesh. The transmutation of a tiny stone or metal animal would become a small blade of various elements that could be hidden in his hand, and the transmuting of a sheet of paper into origami art would become a quiet lesson in control as he would be folding and unfolding the same sheet of paper multiple times. He still couldn't quite fathom why his older self wanted such things from him, but he was already beginning to see the advantages. He circled around the ground, slipping through the group quietly, taking advantage of the fact that his uniform rendered him invisible in the crowd of soldiers to circle around and approach his CO from behind.

~*~

Eastern Headquarters, Third Floor, East Wing, Colonel Mustang's Office

A pair of dark eyes and a pair of golden eyes watched the spectacle from the safety of the office on the third floor of the command building. The dark haired man placed white gloved hands on slender blue clothed shoulders, the sun gleaming off embroidered red arrays and golden stars and brocade, and smirked as he leaned down to place his lips just above the curve of an ear.

"I don't recall you fighting this way during your assessments until after Drachma," Lieutenant-General Roy Mustang said in amusement, "Someone has been going above and beyond their duties again."

"He needs it," Brigadier-General Edward Elric replied. "I still have trouble comprehending how I survived certain missions when I never listened to Al or planned anything out. You should appreciate fewer hospital visits on my part."

"It was just one such hospital visit that led to where we stand today," Mustang murmured.

"Ha," was Edward's sardonic reply.

Mustang let his hands drop to his side and he stepped back while rolling his eyes. "Very well, if you want to play it that way. Your report, Brigadier General."

~*~

Eastern Headquarters, Parade Ground

Roy was growing concerned as time passed and there was still no sign of Ed. The teen had never failed to rise to his bait before. Roy turned as he caught a flash of gold from the corner of his eyes, and his lips twitched upwards in a smile.

"Now why don't you save me the paperwork by displaying the same control over your temper during your missions, Fullmetal?" Roy called.

Ed slipped out of the crowd and knelt behind Roy and muttered under his breath, "Try controlling this, Mustang," as he pressed his fingertips together and brushed his hands over the ground.

Roy swayed as the ground rolled and bucked beneath him, and turned at the sound of rushing water, and he leapt out of the way as the wave crashed down toward him. Only the instinctive clicking of his fingers kept him from being drenched, sending boiling clouds of steam across the parade grounds. There was a quiet whistling sound, and Roy dashed to the side even as a rain of long, fine, razor sharp blades imbedded themselves where he'd been standing moments before and Roy flinched as several blades sliced through his cavalry skirt, pinning a corner to the ground.

"Damn!" Roy hissed, "What the hell has that man been teaching you, Fullmetal?!" A snap of his fingers was enough to free him, and he snapped his fingers again when he saw Ed touch his palms together. He was relieved to hear Ed's yelp as the kid dodged to the side, rolling up, but was not so pleased when the teen clapped his hands and made a shoving motion in Roy's general direction. Roy clicked his fingers again and a fireball slammed into the gust of superheated air and the resulting explosion blew the both of them backward.

Roy hissed as he felt a thin, sharp blade pierce his left hand clean between metacarpals and another thin blade struck him in the thigh while his already battered uniform found more damage due to the blades that did not harm him. He caught a glimpse of silver out of the corner of his eyes, and shifted his eyes downward and repressed a flinch at the sight of the blade that missed his neck by a hairs breadth. Of course, he could also see that he had been incredibly lucky. A little bit more in either direction, and he'd probably have a lot worse than a few scrapes here or there.

Roy gingerly sat up, and carefully extracted himself from the blades and rose somewhat unsteadily to his feet. He glanced across the parade ground, squinting through the dust and soot and just barely able to make out a flash of gold vanishing into a mass of blue once again. He resisted the urge to groan. He knew now that Ed wasn't going to rise to the baiting, and Roy couldn't attack the outside of the boundaries of the arena without being sure that Ed wasn't laughing at him in the opposite direction.

What was it about the sudden arrival of the future in the past their present that had sparked such changes in the adolescent alchemist?

A flutter of movement out of the corner of his eye had Roy spinning around, and he lifted his hand, fingers poised to snap….

~*~

Eastern Headquarters, Front Steps

Maes Hughes had abandoned the parade ground once Ed and Roy started the battle and was watching the spectacle from the safety of the top of the stairs of Eastern HQ. Oh, it was a remarkable battle, who knew that Ed could control multiple transmutations at once to give the impression of flower petals dancing on the wind, when in reality, it was actually a mass of tiny blades that reflected the light in such a way that it _looked_ like flowers?

Oh, oh dear. Maes watched as Roy boiled away the alchemically manifested tidal wave only to have the clouds of steam cut by a rain of razor sharp blades which Roy avoided by a mere hair. How in the world had Ed managed that?

Ouch, Maes winced as the two alchemists were thrown away from each other by the explosion, and sighed. There went Ed, back into the crowd of soldiers, smart, he was circling around them, oh! It seemed Roy had figured him out…

Maes watched as the remainder of the steam dissipated and the dust settled to reveal Ed with his automail transmuted into a blade held at Roy's throat while Roy's fingers were held in preparation to snap in front of the teenager's nose. Stalemate.

The battle was over, and Maes had no doubt that Ed had passed his assessment. Now to vacate the premises before the Fuhrer decided to draft everyone outside of the Command Building to clean up….

~*~

The Parade Ground

The sound of clapping drew the two alchemists from the stalemate, and the silent battle of wills that had been raging.

"Well fought, both of you," the Fuhrer smiled. "This is very likely one of those few alchemic battles with the least amount of damage I've ever seen. However, as it is, why don't everyone pitch in and help clean up?"

~*~

Eastern Headquarters, North Stairwell

Maes hummed happily to himself as he climbed the stairs, anticipating Roy's reaction to finding him in his office with pictures of his beautiful angel. He just loved the look on his old friend's face when he realized that the inevitable had just happened… In fact, he should really spread the joy! Get Roy a wife, and find Ed a girlfriend… Hmm… Maybe Riza and that mechanic of Ed's….

He left the stairwell once he reached the third floor landing and made his way toward Roy's office.

~*~

TBC…


	6. 5: Planning

**Title:** The Heart of Everything: The Song of the Forge Volume 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

**Summary:** When whispers of a Rebellion sweeps across Amestris and a failed assassination reveals a terrifying plot against the State, Brigadier-General Edward Elric and Colonel Alphonse Elric are dispatched with orders to stop the rebels at all costs. The only problem is that the rebels have traveled twelve years into the past.

**A Note from the Beta, **_**FleetInquisitorSaraiyu**_**:** For those who weren't aware, _MiyakonoShinkohana_ does actually have a beta for her stories, not that I have much work too do besides serving as walking thesaurus and an imagination to bounce plot bunnies off of. However, I have once again proven to Miyako why it's a good idea to have a beta by pointing out a rather important discrepancy in the relationship between the Lt. General Mustang and B.G. Elric in the transition between chapters three and four, therefore rendering a series of scenes incompatible with the current storyline. Because of this, Chapter Four has been revised. As a result, rather than having an established RoyEd romance already underway as Miyako originally intended, we will be taking the time to build up the relationships on both sides of the gate, and that in particular is going to be a challenge.

**Chapter 5**

Maes froze as he approached the office and heard voices coming from behind his longtime friend's door as well as the telltale sound of papers rustling. Then a familiar voice rose in exasperation.

"Of all the damn fool things I've known you to do, Fullmetal, this is the most ridiculous by far! How in the _hell_ do you intend for an impulsive sixteen year old boy who, even after fourteen years looses his temper when his height is brought up--!"

And another familiar voice rose in protest.

"With all due respect sir! I think I would know how to make myself listen to reason!"

"No! You have never listened to reason, not even when you _knew_ that I was trying to help you! We both know how similar we are to each other; do you honestly think that your younger self won't see it either? I've all but raised you and Al since you were eleven and ten respectively, and I've seen you both in a hospital bed more times than I'd like since the Drachma campaigns and even before them, I won't let you pull a stunt that could well end your existence!"

"Scar couldn't kill me, the Homunculus couldn't kill me, Bradley put a kill on sight order on me when I was sixteen, and here I am, still alive! I think Ed can take care of himself!"

Maes sucked in a sharp breath of surprise. Why the hell would the Fuhrer put such an order on Ed?

Mustang's voice became gentle. "You survived the last one because I let you go. If I'd done as I was told, you wouldn't be here today."

Maes found that he couldn't breathe. Roy had been sent to kill Ed? The same Ed that Roy was so fond of that he couldn't make rational decisions when it came to him? How had he borne it?

"That is exactly why I think Ed can do this," Edward's voice softened as well. "You've always protected us; don't you think that Al and I didn't go out of our way to take care of you as well?"

Maes found himself feeling warm and fuzzy inside as Ed's words sank in. He'd known that the Elrics did appreciate Roy's efforts on their behalf, even if it was usually Al who openly showed it and Ed seemed to just slap Roy in the face every time the Flame bent over backwards for them. So Ed actually went to some effort for Roy? Well, he'd have to dig deeper if he missed something like that. Roy would probably feel better about what he put the boys through if he had some idea of what they might be doing for him.

"I want to know that he'll survive to be a subordinate I can be proud of. A General in his own right. Someone that I can trust to continue my work if I don't make it."

"I have never failed you before, have I?"

"You went missing for a year. We actually gave you a Military Funeral with full honors and a promotion. I don't think I was ever more disappointed in my life."

"It won't happen again. I won't let it."

"And if you fail, what then?"

"We won't fail."

"Dammit, Ed!"

"Please, General. I'm not sixteen years old anymore."

"Twenty-seven at the end of the month. I don't think it's much better, Brigadier."

"Speak for yourself, old man."

"If I'm old at forty-one, what does that make Maes?" a teasing lilt had returned to Mustang's voice.

"A man a decade your elder, sir? One word. Ancient," was Edward's cheeky reply.

Maes swallowed back a reflexive cry of protest and forced himself to walk away. Really, this was getting much too personal. As he navigated the hallways back toward his own office, the green eyed officer wondered if he'd be able to look the two older officers in the eye later on in the future.

~*~

Once the retreating boot steps had faded, Edward rolled his eyes. "Now that Lt. Colonel Hughes is no longer eavesdropping, can we stop being juvenile already?"

"You need to loosen up once in a while, Fullmetal," Mustang frowned at the younger man, "I've seen you on long term missions. If you find yourself with down time, find someone to shack up with."

Edward glared, "With all due respect, sir, I'm not you."

"I'm not saying that," Mustang ran his hand through his hair in irritation. The blonde might have matured because of Drachma, but it didn't mean that dealing with him was any easier. One day Edward would be the very model of a perfect soldier and the next he'd be just as snarky as when he'd been sixteen though a lot less angry and with a cleaner vocabulary. It was nearly impossible to predict the man. "I'm just saying that you need to not focus so hard. Try and relax, your brother and staff are worried about you, you know. Almost a third of those reports include how you're acting like you're sixteen and not a soldier just off the warfront. You need rest, Fullmetal."

"When our country teeters on the brink of disaster because of a madman who was followed by a fool that was replaced too late?" Edward's voice was hard.

"Have I been talking to myself for all of these years? You can't get anything done if you're too tired to concentrate."

"With all due respect—"

Edward fell silent as Mustang left his position behind the desk he'd sat at in his younger years and grabbed Edward's chin, tilting his face up as he leaned down to look into a fierce tawny gaze. He studied the sharp angles of the blonde's face, and remembered when at one point; Edward's face had been round with childhood and he'd have had to kneel to look Ed in the eye like this. Really, the more things changed…

"No, Edward," he said firmly, "You are going to take a break. I've already made the arrangements. I know a young lady who is more than happy to help me get my best subordinate to relax. You are going to cross that Gate and let Havoc take you shopping, and tonight, you are going on a date, and you will enjoy it. That's an order, understand?"

The tension suddenly bled out of Edward's shoulders and Mustang stepped back and placed his hands on the younger general's shoulders.

"You always know what to do to keep me out of trouble don't you?"

"Of course I do," Mustang smiled, "If I didn't know how to control you after fourteen years, then I'm not much of a superior officer to you."

Edward sighed. "Fine. I'll speak with my staff."

"Wonderful!" Mustang stepped back. "And I'll take over young Ed's lessons for tomorrow just before your own assessments."

"I pity the child," was Edward's wry reply. "My experiences with you on the Drachman fields were bad, but in peacetime? My mentality will never be the same."

Mustang glowered, "My lessons kept you alive on that field, Fullmetal."

"After irreversibly traumatizing me."

"And yet you survived. Be grateful!"

"Ends and Means. I know. And I am grateful," Edward's face was solemn as he wandered to the window and looked over the damaged parade ground, picking out his younger self and the younger Mustang out of the mass of scurrying soldiers. "And when Drachma comes around, so will he, but it doesn't mean I have to be happy about it."

Mustang nodded, "Very well," he retook his seat behind the desk, "In the meantime, I do believe your report is incomplete, Brigadier General."

Edward's back straightened and his shoulders settled into a classic military posture and his face was impassive and emotionless as he turned the mask of a Military Dog toward his commanding officer.

"Yes sir. The enemy's movements thus far have been subtle, and we have resorted to requisitioning several intelligence specialists to track them. Even so, we are still having trouble determining the exact numbers that have initially passed through the Gate…"

~*~

Roy Mustang and his staff entered their office and blinked in surprise to see the older, one eyed Flame Alchemist sitting behind his desk while the older version of Edward stood a little behind and to his left, a stack of files tucked under his arm as he handed a sheaf of papers to the Lieutenant General.

"…General Stadt has requisitioned three hundred new rifles for the armory in Southern Headquarters as well as ten of the prototype semi-automatic firearms for field testing purposes," the Brigadier General was saying. "General Hammond does not believe the request for the semi-automatics is reasonable, and General St. Clare is inclined to agree. They require only two more signatures to overturn the requisition, and should General Mustang be inclined to share their opinion, then it is likely that Generals Hammond and St. Clare will be inclined to appreciate it."

"And you, Ed?"

"With respect," the older Fullmetal said, "I am inclined to agree. The situation with Creta is liable to erupt at anytime. The late Fuhrer Hakuro has already drained the State Treasury and Armory with war against Drachma. We cannot afford to make any displays that could potentially lead to war over a misunderstanding. We simply do not have enough resources to fund and supply a conflict of any sort."

Mustang smirked, "You're learning, Ed."

"With respect," the blonde said, "I learned from the best. Now if you're going to sign that thing, Mustang, be quick about it. The petition is due by eight."

"And if I put it off?"

A knife suddenly hit the desk, shaking from the impact, and the older Flame jerked his hands away as the blade ripped his gloves.

"Shit, Ed!" he yelped, "Damn Hughes for teaching you how to handle those things and I will be making sure my younger self knows not to let you be in prolonged contact with Hawkeye for any reason! That's the third pair today!"

"Huh," Roy murmured, "Not only does the shrimp learn to be a proper soldier, but he turns into a miniature Hawkeye too?"

He blanched as a knife flew past his face and several strands of dark hair drifted to the ground.

"What was that, Mustang?" furious tawny eyes bored into startled onyx. "Just who the _hell_ do you think you're calling short?"

"Fourteen years, and you _still_ fall for that?!" Havoc gasped.

"Only when he's irritated and being forced into something that should theoretically help him relax," the Major General chuckled as he signed the paper with a flourish. "There, done. Remember, Ed, ladies first."

Edward snatched the paper off the desk and scowled. "Go fuck yourself, Mustang," he snarled and stalked across the office and through the Gate.

The Lieutenant General laughed, "I believe that would be akin to incest, Fullmetal!"

Edward pulled open the office door on the other side of the Gate and snarled over his shoulder, "I will pretend I did not just hear you say that, pervert!" and slammed the door behind him as he left.

Mustang shook his head as he rose from his one time seat. "Ah, that boy will never change…" He fixed his sole functioning eye on Ed, and smirked. "Major Elric, the Brigadier General Elric has left me in charge of your lessons this time, but as I have a date, ask your Colonel about coping mechanisms on the battlefield. You have less than a year before war breaks out, and with this most recent assessment, you just renewed your contract for another four years, Major." He paused and added, 'And might I recommend that Lieutenant Colonel Hughes be present during those lessons?

When the Lieutenant General Mustang left the office he had occupied when he had been a Colonel, the expressions on the faces of the younger versions of himself and his staff were a mixture of fear, anger, shock and horror. And unsurprisingly, resignation on Ed Elric's face. It seemed that Edward had been doing just more than pushing for his younger self to think before he acted and to use more than sheer brute force to get what he wanted.

~*~

TBC…


	7. 6: Downward Plunge

**Title:** The Heart of Everything: The Song of the Forge Volume 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

**Summary:** When whispers of a Rebellion sweeps across Amestris and a failed assassination reveals a terrifying plot against the State, Brigadier-General Edward Elric and Colonel Alphonse Elric are dispatched with orders to stop the rebels at all costs. The only problem is that the rebels have traveled twelve years into the past.

**Chapter 6**

The day after the battle assessment, Maes found himself in Roy's office while his long time friend stumbled over his words, trying to explain something to Ed, whose poker face would be much more impressive if it were not for his lips twitching in an attempt not to start laughing out right. Maes suspected that this little show of respect was the only reason why Roy was forging ahead despite his uncharacteristic inability to find the right words to explain whatever the hell it was that Roy was trying to explain to the sixteen year old, who seemed to know what Roy was trying to say, and finding the Flame's tongue tied explanation hilarious. Maes sighed and decided for the sake of all involved, he should step in before Roy made a bigger fool of himself and Ed cracked a rib from holding in laughter.

"That's enough Roy," he said, "I can't understand a word you're saying, and Ed's going to bruise something if he has to stop himself from laughing at you for much longer." He turned to Ed, who had resorted to biting his lip to keep from laughing and said, "and you, let it out before you hurt yourself, kid."

Ed smiled, snorted, snickered, and somehow swallowed his amusement and straightened, all signs that he had been on the verge of uncontrollable laughter gone but the sparkle in his eyes. "Sorry," he grinned, "But I was told this particular lesson was going to be a traumatizing one. Of course, I understand that the material's no laughing matter, but the delivery…" the teenager snickered some more.

Roy glowered, "I'd like to see you do better, Fullmetal."

Ed shook his head, still grinning, "Nice try old man. Even I know better than to give a lecture on what I don't fully understand."

"Brat."

"And damned proud of it, Mustang."

Roy blinked and Maes chuckled. Ed smirked and stuffed his hands in his pockets and Maes blinked as the teenager rocked back on his heels in a very familiar manner. The pieces clicked, and then two very confused alchemists were watching him as he collapsed in uncontrollable laughter.

"Um… Lieutenant Colonel Hughes?" Ed ventured. "Are you alright?"

"Maes, get off the floor and stop making a fool of yourself," Roy growled.

"Oh, it's just too cute!" Maes howled in laughter.

The snap and crackle of alchemy drew all three men's attention to the barrier which vanished and a smug looking Brigadier General Elric stood there with a giggling Major Jean Havoc behind him. The Brigadier raised an eyebrow at Maes, "What's with him?"

"No clue. What's got you so smug?" Ed asked.

"Ch-Chief went and stole Boss' date last night! The_ look _on his face!" Havoc guffawed.

"The old womanizer's loosing his touch," the Brigadier General purred as he raked a hand through his bangs. "And you really shouldn't be laughing, Havoc. I stole your date in addition to Mustang's."

"It was worth seeing Mustang's face! As long as I get to see Boss go down, steal all the dates from me you want, Chief!"

"Oh? Is that a challenge, Major?" Edward smirked in a way that was eerily familiar to Roy.

"Watch out Central!" Havoc cried, "There's a new lady killer in town, and his name is Fullmetal! Move aside Flame Alchemist!"

"Now, now, Major," Edward purred, "You're embarrassing the children."

"Um… Back on track, sir?" Ed called tentatively.

"Oh, that's right," Edward's smug smile became nostalgic as he glanced at his younger self, "How are lessons coming along Ed?"

"Mustang's having trouble forming a coherent sentence," Ed replied, grinning, "Thus far, all the Colonel has managed is a very convoluted string of gibberish along the lines of insert tab A into slot B, and the Lieutenant Colonel seems to have lost whatever was left of his sanity due to amusement."

"Ah, I remember that," Havoc grinned, "The look on your face when you realized what the Boss was trying to say was hilarious. The fact that he was trying to give you "The Talk" on the Military Express on our way to the frontlines just made it even more so."

"Good times," Edward agreed, smiling softly, "One of the last before everything went downhill." He turned his attention back to his younger self, "And now, I think it's time for some lessons in marksmanship, yes? Our Major Havoc has saved our life more often then he'd have liked in Drachma, so he knows our fighting style as well as Alphonse. Learn from him first; believe me when I say you'll need it." His smile was sad, "It's been years and I'm still trying to break habits from a style meant to kill Drachman alchemists on the off chance that I might need it against Cretans."

"Ack!" Maes cried, leaping to his feet and clamping his hands over Ed's ears, "Don't tell him _that_!"

Edward raised his eyebrow in yet another very familiar way, and then it clicked in Roy's mind. It was himself that he was seeing! _His_ smirk at a perceived challenge that he knew he could win! _His_ nonchalant gloating! _His _amused eyebrow lift! Edward would grow up into a near carbon copy of _him_! For some reason, concern overshadowed the pride of being someone the teenager looked up to and emulated. No one knew Roy Mustang's faults better than Roy Mustang himself, and he knew without a doubt that he was not the sort of person Edward should be emulating in any sense of the word.

Edward shrugged, looking dismissive, "He'll learn," there was no sign of a young man teasing friends in his posture and tone. He was suddenly a General through and through. Maes had only seen that sort of sudden shift in gears from Roy, though young Ed was coming in close second. "It is inevitable if you want him to live through Drachma. He'll learn or he'll die," Edward said, "Better he learn it now in a controlled environment where there are people he can trust to catch him if he falls then in the field where one mistake can cost more than just his life because there is no one there to help him."

He nodded curtly at Havoc, spun around, and settled behind his desk, which was piled high with paperwork and began studiously working his way through it. Havoc glared at Maes.

"Thanks a lot, Hughes," he growled, "And we'd just gotten him loosened up, too. Jeez! Hawthorne's report tomorrow is probably going to say he'd got nightmares about Drachma again! Shit! After almost two days worth of work too!" He released a breath in an angry huff and searched through his pockets for a cigarette, and strode toward the door, "Come on, Ed, we're going to break you into the recoil of a rifle."

Ed squirmed out of Maes's grasp and followed Havoc. The last thing either Roy or Maes heard from him before the door swung shut was the question, "Why'd the Brigadier send you? Why not just ask this side's version of you or Hawkeye?"

Maes turned to the Gate. "Uh, Ed?"

"Don't come through," the Brigadier General said firmly as he flicked through a sheaf of papers, "While the Gate is open, your presence here theoretically shouldn't have any effect on either future or past, but that's not a theory that should be tested." He pulled open a drawer and selected a pen and quickly scrawled something, his signature as likely as not, and shoved the drawer closed as he set the papers in their folder and dropped the entire thing into the out box. He sighed. "Leave for a few days and the entire office becomes one large fire hazard. Damn bureaucracy to hell."

There was silence as he pulled another file toward him and flipped through it. "If you have something to say, spit it out. Despite popular opinion, I'm perfectly capable of listening while I work, as my staff can tell you if you can get a hold of one of them. In which case, kindly inform First Lieutenant Clyne that her gun proficiency certification is overdue, and if it is not completed within the next week, she will be suspended from active duty until said certification has been completed." He glanced up and shook his pen patronizingly, "I'd do it myself, but as you can see, I'm a bit busy."

"Damn," Roy muttered, "You do realize I'm not exactly the best person in the world to pick up habits from?"

"Circumstances were such that it was impossible for me to not pick up habits from you, Mustang, since we were spending time in close quarters. I've already spent the better part of a year beating that into your head, I am not inclined to repeat the experience."

"Yep, need to break you of your habits before Edward-land becomes Mustang-land entirely," Maes chirped.

The Brigadier General froze and looked up, a strange expression on his face. "Edward-land? Mustang-land? Hughes, is Mustang and my younger self aware that you refer to them as if they were some cheesy amusement park attraction?"

"I know now," Roy glowered.

"In either case," Maes said quickly, "Was what happened in Drachma that bad? What can we expect to happen to Ed?"

"Mustang would be the better person to ask," Edward said shortly, "As he was the one to compare my actions in Drachma to what he had done in Ishbal, only I did it on a much larger scale." His smile was cold and sharp edged, "There is a very good reason why my unofficial title in the North is the Blood Rain Alchemist, you know."

As he returned to his work, Edward wondered if he was a horrible person to enjoy the shock on their faces after having dropped the bomb of the sort of reputation he'd made for himself. Granted it was not as pristine as the reputation he had in the rest of Amestris, but it was one that was useful in the military in comparison to the one he capitalized on among the civilians. Mustang and Hughes were both just as much soldiers as he was, he decided, they would understand. It wasn't as if it hurt their reputations any, being the only officers beside the Fuhrer that the Fullmetal Alchemist would take orders from.

Roy cleared his throat. "So how's tracking the Rebels on our side going?"

"Slow," was the immediate reply.

"We could help if you want," Maes offered.

"No thank you," Edward replied, "Save your resources for Drachma." He quickly finished off the last of the pile, and scooped the stack of files up into his arms and strode out of the office with nary a glance backwards.

~*~

After his commanding officer had secluded himself in his office with his old friend and the youngest member of his staff, Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc followed the rest of the staff in their usual duties. The last thing they expected, though considering that the future was present in their past, was for the door to swing open, and for a very familiar person to stride through, Ed close behind his heels asking, "So why'd the Brigadier send you? Why not this side's version of Hawkeye or you?"

"He told you already Ed," Major Jean Havoc said around the cigarette clenched in his teeth, "I know your style best out of all of us, except for maybe you and Al. Besides, Hawkeye had the easy job for most of it, sit in a high perch and shoot soldiers in Drachman brown and grays. I had to follow you on a two year tour of Amestris, and while you talked the people out of outright rebellion, I had to keep anti-military factions from killing you. Half the time, I was shooting into the crowds because of some idiot with a gun or a knife. The other half, I was shooting chimeras. You attracted trouble like mad, kid, and frankly, you still do. Mustang and Al were probably the only ones who won any money off you when your staff didn't all request transfers after the first time they had to bail you out after you ended up neck deep in trouble." Havoc paused at the door and added, "But then again, it's not as if you actively go out looking for trouble… Anyway, if I remember correctly, Mustang wouldn't let you so much as hold a gun before you turned sixteen. Has Hawkeye started you on the basics of how to take care of a rifle yet?"

Ed looked slightly confused, and Major Havoc sighed. "With Scar running around too… We were idiots back then to think that attaching a pair of bodyguards could keep you safe. I'm surprised you even survived long enough to be promoted when we didn't think to try and give you some long range backup that did not require Alphonse to drag your ass out of the fire. But thanks to the Chief, we're going to fix that. Come on then, to the range with us."

~*~

Out in Central City proper, Colonel Alphonse Elric, with his aide-de-camp, was busy investigating the part of the city that had, in the future, gone up in flames after Edward was shot in the defense of his commanding officer. What they had found thus far was not promising, if only because there was nothing to be found.

"Strange to think that there's nothing here," Alphonse murmured. "This was believed to be the meeting place between the two organizations… Maybe we're here a few years to early?"

"Impossible, sir," Lieutenant Alicia Herne said, "Reports from this time indicate that the Perfect Peace People was already an established organization here in Central City and was already well on its way to fracturing to form the more militant People's Army. It would be impossible for them not to have a headquarters here somewhere."

"The only question is where."

"Sir… Colonel, is it possible that the Rebels may be in Eastern City? Evidence indicates that Liuetenant General Mustang and Brigadier General Elric are considered high priority targets. It may be that they are waiting for us to lower our guard so they can attack."

"If we were to return to Eastern City, who would shield the Generals in Central?" Alphonse asked rhetorically, "No, brother is in Eastern City. He'll make sure nothing happens to the targets out there. Strange though, that something like this would happen… They must be hiding out somewhere near their targets. A large group like the Perfect Peace People suddenly up and vanishing? No way can they not have a place to gather. I hope General Mustang and General Hughes are dealing ok. Brother said that the People's Army is getting more active back home."

"I'm sure the Generals are doing fine, sir."

"I know, but I don't feel right, being out here chasing Rebels when the country is on the verge of civil war with tensions with Creta on the rise. I know brother feels the same."

"We all do, sir."

Alphonse shook his head and began moving toward the military car, long strides eating up the distance quickly, "Well, it doesn't seem like we'll find anything more out here. Let's get back to Central Command and see if the others have found anything."

"Yes sir."

~*~

"Nothing?" Edward's eyebrows seemed to be trying to disappear into his hairline at his brother's news.

"_Nope. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. The PPP is no where to be found, and neither is the PA."_

"I remember seeing a report about not too long after we were transferred to Central," Edward frowned as he clasped the phone to his ear with his shoulder and reached for another file of paperwork. "An organization like the PPP that is having an internal struggle due to a fraction of the members wanting to go militant does not simply drop off the face of the planet."

"_That's the problem, brother," _Alphonse said, _"Because they are not there. I'd like to take a team into the sewers sometime tomorrow, just in case."_

"Al, no one with half a brain is going to go down into the sewers," Edward said, "Not unless you're absolutely desperate. There are all sorts of weird things down there. Remember the little fiasco with the Serpentine Alchemist?"

"_Natalia Kruger. Specialized in the creation of chimeras for use in espionage and assassinations. Fused her commanding officer with a serpent as revenge for passing her over for a promotion only to be killed and eaten by him. The former Colonel Joseph MacDougal was immediately hunted down but not before he killed and consumed several other civilians and soldiers."_

"And he wasn't the only nasty hiding in the sewers. Al, be careful when you go down there."

"_Don't worry, brother. I will."_

"Let me know when you leave."

"_You'll be the first know when I get back."_

Edward smiled dryly. "I'm smothering aren't I?"

"_It's alright brother,"_ Edward could practically hear Alphonse's smile, _"After everything we've been through, you have every right to smother."_

"You deserve to be your own person, Al, not a tamer version of me."

"_Brother, we've had this discussion before."_

"And I have the feeling we'll be having it again." Edward sighed. "Just be careful, Al."

"_Again, don't worry brother."_

"I'll try not to jump to conclusions. Elric out."

"_Likewise, Brigadier. Elric out."_

Edward set down the phone and frowned. Oh, he did not like where this was going. What would happen if they did turn out to be in the sewers? Rouge alchemists liked the warehouse districts for large stretches of level ground to draw on. The sewers were a breeding ground of druggies, chimeras, and other nasties.

"Shit," he growled, and pulled a blank sheet of paper toward him. He was going to need to send a few teams into the sewers then. Just in case.

~*~

The next morning found several squads of soldiers assembled on the parade ground, all of them armed to the teeth and toting heavy duty flashlights. They had formed ranks and wore grim faces and did not talk quietly amongst each other as soldiers waiting for the command to move out were wont to do. It was this tense atmosphere that more than one officer found disquieting as they had to walk past the gathered soldiers to get into the Command Building. Not a single officer or enlisted man could miss that first of the five ranks was made up entirely of alchemists and the other four ranks were foot soldiers of varying ranks. When teams were put together to have at least one alchemist each, there was trouble, and any soldier with eyes could see that the order that these soldiers had formed ranks in was no accident.

It was into this tense atmosphere that Colonel Roy Mustang arrived to start another day in Eastern Headquarters. He'd just made it to the foot of the front steps and was on his way up when Brigadier General Edward Elric, wearing a sword belt to which was clipped a rapier and at least one gun under his military issue overcoat, and his staff, consisting of his two lieutenants, a major, and a corporal, appeared at the top and made their way down.

"Found a new lead then?" Roy asked.

Edward shook his head. "It's as if they disappeared into thin air. The only place left to look is the sewers."

Roy frowned, "The sewers? No one in their right mind would be fool enough to be down there! Not with the chimeras and rogue alchemists taking over the underground."

"It's the only place to look," Edward shrugged, "Previously gathered evidence indicates that you and I are high priority targets, so until we have new evidence that says otherwise you'll want to keep an eye on the people around you and Ed. Stay away from windows, and avoid being alone if you can help it. I've already been forced to step in front of a bullet for you, and I am not inclined to repeat the experience."

"Uh," Roy just knew he was gaping in an unseemly manner, "Thank you?"

Edward nudged him gently with a shoulder, "What are friends for, Mustang?" he murmured and descended the rest of the way down the steps to stand in front of his men.

"There have been no sign of the Rebels past or future thus far," Edward said softly, his voice somehow managing to carry across the parade ground and up to Roy's ears despite being several dozen steps from the very top, "and Colonel Elric is of the suspicion that they may have gone underground, in the most literal sense of the word. As of 0600 hours today, he has led fifteen teams of five into Central City's sewer system. They will be scouring Central City's underground for any sign of either the Perfect Peace People or the People's Army over the next few days."

Roy reached the top of the steps and turned to watch, marveling at how Edward's voice could reach him even from this distance despite talking in a soft and gentle tone that he'd only heard the blonde use with Elysia. He'd only ever seen the older Fullmetal filling out paperwork though more than one person had alluded to his prowess as a soldier and commander. He'd have to have some skill, he'd never have made it to Brigadier General otherwise, and Roy was curious to see the older Fullmetal in action. In the distance, Roy could see different officers pausing at the Front Gate and waiting there, in deference of the importance of what was taking place on the Parade Grounds. Certain things in the military was sacred, one's comrades, the chain of command, the military protocols that dictated a soldier's life, and most especially, the trust one's commanding officer had in his troops to follow orders. In the military, a mission briefing is especially sacred, and not a soldier, from the lowliest of privates to the highest general would dare cross the parade ground and thus disturb the sanctity of this obviously very important mission briefing. The day's work was going to start a little late because of this it seemed, but no one was going to complain.

"We have had about as much luck determining the whereabouts of the rebels as our comrades in Central," Edward was continuing in that same gentle tone, "and there is only one place we have yet to look. Beginning today, and over the span of the next several days, we will be searching the sewer system of Eastern City for any sign of the rebels. You have already been assigned sections of the sewer to search and have been designated into teams of five. Each team has been assigned an alchemist to combat any rogue alchemists or chimera you may encounter. Ultimately, your mission is not to clean out the sewers, lovely though it may be, but to seek out any information that may be found on the whereabouts of the enemy. This is not an excuse to indulge in any frivolity or to slack off. The sewers are much more dangerous than the streets in the lowest slums. One wrong move and your life will be over. Except in an extreme emergency, Lieutenant General Mustang will not be assigning any more men to this mission, so if we loose one man here, that is one soldier less we have to defend our future with. Which means," here, Edward's tone changed to the no-nonsense roar of a general who fully expected his men to be in the air before asking how high when he told them to jump, "NO FOOLING AROUND! I WILL PERSONALLY FLAY YOU IF YOU SCREW THIS UP, DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?!!!"

The assembled soldiers immediately barked in reply, "Sir, yes sir!"

The Brigadier General nodded in approval. "Very well then," his voice was soft again but no less crisp, "Remember to stay in radio contact. Men, move out!"

The assembled soldiers saluted, did an about face, and marched out the gate, where there was an organized scramble to clear the way. Mission briefings might be sacred, but soldiers on a mission… Move out of the way. The country's future depends on it. And in the case of the soldiers that were leaving, the country's future quite literally rode on their successfully completing their mission.

The Brigadier General shrugged his shoulders to settle his great coat more comfortably and checked his sword belt and strode toward the gate, his staff following close behind.

"There they go," Roy glanced over his shoulder at the sound of Maes's voice. "Who would have ever thought that Ed would grow into that?" the Lieutenant Colonel said thoughtfully, "I look at our little Fullmetal and I have trouble seeing the Brigadier General he will eventually grow up to be, even when the Brigadier General is standing right in front of me."

"I have the feeling that our older selves struggle with that same problem everyday," Roy murmured, "And there's Al to think of too. A Colonel? Color me surprised."

"Ed told me the Brigadier General told him to stop coddling Al so he'd grow into his own person," Maes murmured, "And the one time my own elder self came through on his way to Central, he told me to use my eyes and see the obvious. Which leads me to believe that Ed might just be right. Al is already very much like Ed, just calmer."

~*~

Lieutenant General Roy Mustang glanced at the papers in his hand, and then at his friend who was for once not grinning at him like a lunatic. "So Ed and Al are going into the sewers," he said, "I can see why it might be cause for concern, but if the Rebels have gone underground, we have to follow."

"That's just it, Roy,' Hughes said, "Central City has more than one underground."

"Xerxes," Mustang agreed, "If it comes to that, we'll just switch Elrics."

"Would it really be that easy?"

"Knowing the trouble those two seem to constantly get into? No."

Hughes grinned. "Right, so how much do you want to bet that Ed's well into the process of changing the past?"

Mustang flicked a pen at the grinning man. "No bet, Maes. No bet. This is Edward Elric the walking repository of guilt and regrets we're talking about."

"Would you stop him?"

"No." Mustang lowered his eyes, "If he can change anything for the better, I won't stop him. Ed has the best chances, his plans look weird sometimes, but the end result is always a benefit. I wonder if he doesn't plan it that way sometimes."

"He doesn't," Hughes chuckled, "Remember how we ended up with a treaty with Xing?"

"Which reminds me, did Ling Yao ever get back to us on what the hell he thought he was doing on that field to begin with?"

"Looking for Ed, apparently."

"I figured that much, but what for?"

"He told me to ask Ed."

"Ed told me to ask Ling."

The two men blinked, then said in unison, "Al."

"I'll see if I can contact him later," Hughes said thoughtfully, "Both Ed and Al should in be in the sewers by now…"

~*~

Colonel Alphonse Elric slapped aside an airborne chimera with the flat of the blade of his officer's sword and sidestepped a clumsy knife swipe from a grungy filth covered creature that looked as if it was a human under all that muck with a frown. He could see his staff ahead of him, methodically firing into an advancing herd of chimeras, and distantly, he could hear the sounds of gunfire and the snap and crackle of alchemy. His soldiers had been set upon by the denizens of the sewers almost as soon as they had dropped down. He only hoped his brother was having better luck in Eastern City.

~*~

Brigadier General Edward Elric slapped aside a chimera with his automail hand, disregarding the crunch of breaking bones and the yelp as the chimera slammed into one of its fellows. "It seems that Al was on the right track," he murmured as he unclipped the radio from his belt. "Change of plans!" he said, "Push forward! They must be down here somewhere!"

The radio crackled and there were twenty replies of the same, _"Yes sir!"_

"We're running low on ammunition, sir," First Lieutenant Alexandria Clyne said in her calm, toneless way.

"Then we will send someone to fetch more," Edward agreed as he lifted the radio once again, "Teams five, nine, and fifteen, go topside and get us more ammunition!"

The radio crackled once again, _"Sir, yes sir!"_ the radio fell silent, and then, _"Any preferences, sir?"_ asked a female officer.

"No, just the general things. See if you can't requisition some explosives from the Goldenrod Project, though."

"_Understood sir. Although…"_

"Ask my younger self or the Colonel Mustang. I didn't level all of those towns with alchemy alone you know."

"_Understood sir. Alchemist Fifteen out."_

Edward smiled as he clipped the radio to his belt and pulled out his sidearm and fired it into the face of a chimera that seemed to have a lion base. "Lieutenant Hawthorne!" he called.

"Yes sir?" the lieutenant replied as he fired his rifle into the advancing mass of chimeras.

"Remind me to take a look at the file on the alchemist on team fifteen."

"Yes sir!"

~*~

Colonel Roy Mustang rubbed his temples gingerly. Reports had been coming in all day about the sounds of a fight coming from the sewers. What happened to the mission being one for information gathering?

"He obviously came across a lead," Hawkeye's lips curved in a smile, "Nice to see Edward doesn't change much, although being called unofficially the Blood Rain Alchemist must have come as a surprise after years of being the People's Alchemist."

"A lead. In the sewers? From the racket, it sounds more like a war!"

"It may well be," Major Jean Havoc rolled his eyes as he ambled through the door, an exhausted Fullmetal slung over his shoulder. "Ed knows best, no matter what people think."

He set the teen onto the couch and added, "You might want to requisition some explosives from the Goldenrod Project, by the way. Knowing Ed, he'll be sending several teams up to pick up more ammo, and at least one of them has orders to get some Goldenrod explosives. Kid really likes the stuff. Comes up with the weirdest ways to use them. Kind of like his arrays."

He smiled down at the dozing teen. "Wish he never had to fight Drachma sometimes, especially when he wakes up screaming, or something triggers a flashback," Major Havoc murmured, "But such things do happen…"

He quickly shook himself out of the melancholy and grinned at the younger version of his commanding officer. "So, Colonel, how about bringing down the barrier so I can get back? Other than a few new scars, Hawkeye doesn't change much over the years, and I'm late as it is."

Roy found that he had to smile at the Major's words as he left his seat. It was nice to see that although a great many things would change over the years, that some things would stay the same.

~*~

It was near midnight that Colonel Alphonse Elric was able to get his troops out of the sewers. Other than a few rogue alchemists, druggies, homeless folk, rogue chimera, and weird scientific experiments by ambitious physicists, there had been nothing to be found. On the bright side, the sewers had been cleared of unsavory characters during the march through, not that it had been hard. Ultimately, it hadn't been until after Liore and the outlawing of the creation of chimeras that the sewers of any city in Amestris had gotten truly dangerous.

As he stumbled into the bathroom attached to his quarters, Alphonse wondered if his brother was having any luck in Eastern City.

~*~

"Rest?" Brigadier General Edward Elric said sarcastically into the radio as he emptied his handgun into a pack of hyena based chimeras, "What on earth is that?"

"_Please sir! We can't keep this up much longer!"_

Edward sighed. The alchemist who had identified his team as number thirteen was right. If this kept up, they would die, and that was not good. The teams had already taken injuries, not enough to stop them from fighting, but enough to severely hinder them.

"I understand," and he did, but he couldn't give up the ground they had gained. They were encountering human soldiers and alchemists more often now. He wasn't going to retreat, but it did not mean he couldn't compromise, "If the wounded can get out and get us some relief, we can get some rest. Until then, hold your ground!"

"_Understood sir!"_

~*~

Injuries among soldiers were not unusual things. Their line of work often meant that injuries of some sort were inevitable. Rarely though, would a soldier come running into the Command Center, exhausted, bleeding, and covered in sewer muck and chimera gore, and on this particular evening, there were almost twelve of them, all racing to the same destination at different times.

Location in question? Not the infirmary as some might think. No, these were the soldiers who had been briefed on the parade ground that morning, and were therefore the troops from the future. And so their destination? Colonel Mustang's office. Reason? To get more troops. Why was more troops necessary? Because a war was quite literally taking place in the sewer system beneath Eastern City, and had been raging for the better part of the day.

Colonel Roy Mustang blinked at the soldiers that dashed into his office near the end of the work day, one after the other, bloody, exhausted, and covered in muck and gore, gasping a request to be let through the gate, and very obligingly undid the barrier to let them through. This was certainly a day to remember. And then he remembered who it was that had led a mission into the sewers and groaned. It seemed that even after fourteen years, Edward Elric's ability to get in trouble did not change. He was still going to be the Fullmetal's commanding officer in the future. He was doomed. Doomed, doomed, doomed. Utterly and completely doomed.

~*~

Lieutenant General Mustang, who had moved his base of operations into Eastern City temporarily, resisted the urge to groan when yet another muck covered soldier darted into his office. Major General Maes Hughes, in a chair a little to the left of the desk, gave his friend an amused look tinged with concern.

"No, no, let me guess," he said wryly, "Fullmetal is waging war in the sewers of Eastern City and needs more troops." He shook his head, glancing at the chain covered in a thin sheen of red, "You're the sixth one to tell me this, major. Get to the infirmary."

The bemused and exhausted alchemist saluted and left.

Hughes turned his attention to his long time friend. "It looks like Ed's found a lead. He really doesn't do things half assed does he?"

"He's waging a war under Eastern City," Mustang dropped his head onto his desk with a thunk.

"He doesn't pull harebrained stunts without reason anymore, Roy," the bespectacled man pushed gently, "Not after Drachma, you know that."

"You really do want me going after him, don't you?"

"Do you have much choice? They were only sent through with a certain number of troops, and even if they can get word to Al, there is no way he can get his soldiers from Central to Eastern City in time. Ed might be known for achieving the impossible on a battlefield, but not even he can stand his ground in pitched battle for three days with no rest, Roy."

"We have a lot riding on this project," Mustang sighed as he sat up and reached for the phone, "But to take more troops through… I don't know if Madame Fuhrer will authorize it, especially with the People's Army becoming more active."

"Like you said," Hughes said calmly, "There is a lot riding on this project. She'll authorize the troops. You'll see."

Mustang paused halfway through dialing the Fuhrer's extension and glanced at his old friend and asked dryly, "And I'm assuming you'll be coming too?"

Hughes gave the alchemist a hard look. "Just try and leave me behind, Roy."

Mustang rolled his eyes and muttered, "I wouldn't dream of it," as he finished dialing the Fuhrer's office.

Hughes gave his friend a cold, tight smile, and Mustang flapped a dismissive hand at him as he spoke to the Fuhrer's secretary. The entire military knew that Maes Hughes felt somewhat paternal about the Elrics, and the first time Edward had gone out on a date, Hughes had fussed like a mother hen, and when he'd broken up with the girl, Maes had nearly scared the poor thing out of her skin. Say nothing of what had happened when Edward had somehow dragged himself into Eastern Headquarters with his throat slit at fifteen. The city had never been as law abiding since.

~*~

One hour later, a force of eighty soldiers and fourteen alchemists (not including Mustang and staff and Hughes) had been put together along with two alchemists and four foot soldiers to replace the ones that had returned with the request for reinforcements. Mustang and his staff immediately ushered them through the Gate, and Major Havoc found he couldn't resist making a final crack as the soldiers dashed through.

"Guess we're off to save Ed's ass. Again. For the thousandth time."

Mustang glowered and the Major blanched and darted through the gate. The Liuetenant General adjusted his gloves and stepped through the gate, Hughes close behind him.

~*~

TBC…


	8. 7: Battle Under Eastern City

**Title:** The Heart of Everything: The Song of the Forge Volume 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

**Summary:** When whispers of a Rebellion sweeps across Amestris and a failed assassination reveals a terrifying plot against the State, Brigadier-General Edward Elric and Colonel Alphonse Elric are dispatched with orders to stop the rebels at all costs. The only problem is that the rebels have traveled twelve years into the past.

**Chapter 7**

"Geez!" Hughes groaned as the troops stepped through the Gate into Colonel Mustang's office and the ground under their feet trembled as an explosion in the sewers rocked the city, "I knew Ed tends to walk into all sorts of trouble, but seriously! Remember when he led troops into the sewers in Drachma, Roy? It's the Bloody Valentine all over again!"

"Only this time, it's in Amestris instead of Drachma," Mustang frowned as he adjusted his gloves. "Don't get complacent!" he barked, "The last time he went into the sewers after the enemy, Fullmetal not only lost his temper, but also his patience and he dropped the entire city into a massive sinkhole. The sewers here in Eastern City are much more extensive than in Drachma!"

Hughes shook his head in amusement. The sudden horror on certain soldiers' faces was laughable as they suddenly realized that the Lieutenant General was implying that the Fullmetal Alchemist was under the city when previously, he'd leveled another city after being sent underground.

"That was cruel, boss," Havoc muttered as the soldiers dashed for the entry points directly under Eastern Command, "Very cruel. You know that Chief's not going to dump Eastern City into a sinkhole. He likes this place too much."

Mustang shook his head, "That may be the case, however, will his patience hold out? Let's go before Fullmetal goes and opens a crater under the city."

Hughes shook his head as he followed his old friend out of Eastern Command. Really, he could be so melodramatic at times, and Edward seemed to take after him more and more as time passed by, which meant that Alphonse was slowly, unknowingly, but ultimately, doing the same.

Alphonse would follow Edward's lead to the end of the world if it came to it, and no one but Edward knew why Edward was still in the military. Certainly it wasn't because of his contract, he'd come to the end of it three times since his initial enlisting, and each time, Edward had renewed it.

The first time was understandable, Alphonse hadn't been restored yet, the second time, also understandable, the war with Drachma was well underway, and Edward's conscience would not have let him walk away from it. But the third time, only weeks before Edward had stepped between an assassin's bullet and Mustang's death, only Edward knew the reason why he'd renewed that contract, and not even Alphonse could pry the reason from his brother. And it wasn't for the lack of trying either.

~*~

"!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

The frustrated bellow echoed through the sewers.

"Where the _hell_ are all of these chimera coming from?!" Brigadier General Edward Elric snarled as he kicked a fox/eagle hybrid with his automail leg, snapping its neck, "I am fast loosing patience with this farce! I _will_ drop this city into a crater, sentimentality be damned, if we do not make any headway within the next three hours!"

"Please Brigadier General!" Hawthorne cried, "Don't do anything rash, sir!"

"I'll show you rash!" the blonde bellowed as his automail blade sliced a wing off another chimera, sending it careening into a wall.

"Must you really yell, Fullmetal?" a wry baritone asked as the one winged chimera burst into flames as it leapt at a figure in the shadows. "The sewers have a tendency to send sound echoing through long distances, you know."

"Mustang!" Edward ducked under the tail of a snake chimera, "When did you get here?"

"After the fifth alchemist came running into my office covered in blood and sewer goop," the dark haired alchemist said dryly as he clicked his fingers, "Now, it's going to get a little toasty down here."

"That's a horrible pun, Mustang!" Edward barked as he clapped and deconstructed a chimera.

"Yes, but it's true," the Lieutenant General smirked, "Now, duck."

"Roast duck?" Edward joked as he thumbed the dials on the radio to a different frequency, "I'd prefer roast Mustang myself."

Mustang rolled his eyes as the blonde barked orders into the radio. "Haha, Edward. Very funny. But then again, I guess you don't have to duck. You're just too short."

"Who the hell are you calling so short that he could hide in a crack and not be burned by a spark in the sewers?"

"I didn't say that, Fullmetal. Now are you going to duck, or are we going to have to cart a charred shrimp out of here along with the chimeras?"

"Who the _hell_ are you calling short?!" the Brigadier General barked as he ducked under a gout of flame.

"You, shrimp," Mustang smirked as he clicked his fingers together and a massive blast of flames consumed the pack of chimeras approaching them from the other end of the tunnel.

"Why must the two of you do this in the middle of what essentially amounts to a warzone?!" Havoc demanded as a blast of superheated air on Edward's part slammed a chimera away from him followed by a gout of flame that swallowed up the airborne chimera.

The two alchemists exchanged amused smirks and the battle was on.

~*~

The sewers were mostly clear by the dawn of the next day. There were the signs of hurried departure from some of the more cavernous junctions of the sewers, but other wise, was mostly cleared of alchemical existences and most if not all of Eastern City's less than desirable residents.

"Really," Mustang said tiredly as the soldiers made their way up out of the sewers via access points underneath Eastern Headquarters, "I expected them to be in Central, not Eastern City."

"Fuck, Mustang," Edward's voice was rough with exhaustion and amusement, "If you were expecting them in Central, why the hell was the bulk of the expedition stationed in Eastern City?"

"You know the answer to that, Fullmetal," Mustang yawned. "And here I was hoping I wouldn't see another battlefield after Drachma…"

"It's only a few chimeras."

"Enough to make you go running back to HQ for help?" Hughes teased.

"Alright so not just a few chimeras," Edward flushed, "But they weren't going to let us out of the sewers alive, and if nothing else, I want for there to be a future to return to, shitty as the path to it was. I don't step in front of a bullet for just anyone, and neither do I stay in the service of an institution I hate like nothing else for no particular reason. You lot know me better than that."

"But you'd never tell us why," Havoc griped. "You just smirk and walk away or change the subject."

The Brigadier General smiled and swiftly scaled the ladder and shoved the hatch open and hauled himself out of the manhole, and distantly, the troops under the sewers could hear him barking orders at the maintenance crew who kept the access points functional and ensured the equipment down there functional.

Lieutenant General Roy Mustang shook his head. Havoc had a point about Edward's tendency to not answer that particular question and followed his subordinate out of the sewers.

The maintenance crew did not so much as bat an eye as three exhausted, dirty, gore covered generals hauled themselves out of the sewers, followed by equally battered troops. Once a year or so, some aspiring officer might lead an expedition underground to clear the city of undesirables. Really, soldiers emerging from the sewers under the Command Building were not an unfamiliar sight to the maintenance crew, although this year was unusual in that there were three generals leading the expedition and that the future was overlapping with the present, and if the entirety of Amestris didn't know that already… Well, military buildings always found ways of finding out about things that were supposed to be top secret, and even if it was common knowledge among soldiers, certainly civilians tended not to have a clue about what the hell was going on inside the bowels of the country's exalted military…

~*~

Colonel Roy Mustang and staff remained in the headquarters for three days straight while the older versions had gone underground after the umpteenth soldier, exhausted, dirty, and injured, had dashed through the Gate. Whatever the hell the future was doing in the sewers had the entire city in a panic, and it was annoying as well as worrying!

Right up until tired and battered soldiers staggered into the office, making a beeline toward the Gate to which Ed obligingly lowered the barrier so they could pass through. Then came the staff, battered, dirty, exhausted, and covered in sewer slime and chimera gore, followed by three generals, one snarling in familiar impotent fury, another, smug and arrogant as he prodded the younger general into even greater depths of anger, and the eldest of the three shaking his head and smiling in fond amusement at his friends.

"Must you two prod at each other like that?" Hughes' voice was amused, "Ed's been up for almost four days straight, at this rate, all any of us will be able to deduce is that the two of you are falling for one another."

"…That was profoundly disturbing, Hughes," Edward said wryly.

"Hughes," Mustang lifted a hand, "Die."

"Eep!"

The exhausted soldiers did not blink, and simply made way as three highly commended generals darted through the Gate like children, one fleeing for his life, the other two pursuing with the intent to cause severe bodily harm.

Major Havoc sighed and patted his pockets in search of a cigarette, "Where do those three get their energy? Geez, you'd think they were newly minted Majors again and not decorated Generals, the way they act sometimes."

Colonel Hawkeye shook her head and chivvied the remainder of the soldiers through the Gate. "Be grateful at least," she said wryly, "that we arrived before Edward lost his patience all together and dropped the city into a crater like he did the last time he lead a mission underground in Drachma."

She smirked as she crossed the gate. The wary looks the staff was giving the younger Edward would serve to keep her amused for a long time to come.

"Just once!" the Brigadier General barked as he strode to stand before the Gate, "You turn _one_ enemy city into a sinkhole, and no one lets you forget it! And it's not as if other Alchemists didn't have the same orders! And Havoc, get your blasted, nosy, paparazzi cousin out of my office before my alchemists decide that they're not going to stop her from setting off the security! Damn you for letting her trail you around Headquarters like some demented lost puppy!"

"Shit!" Havoc darted through the gate, "Don't kill Alice!"

"I'll transmute her into her precious camera if I catch her going through my papers in my office again Major! Be grateful that I don't keep anything important in the open, or she'd be meeting my automail up close and personal!"

"Seriously Chief!" Havoc called from the hallway, "Don't kill her!"

Edward pinched the bridge of his nose to release tension, and once sure that all the troops from the future were through, brought the barrier back up and collapsed into his chair. He sighed and left, looking forward to a hot shower, warm food, and a good long sleep.

~*~

TBC…


	9. 8: Puppy in the Kennel

**Title:** The Heart of Everything: The Song of the Forge Volume 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

**Summary:** When whispers of a Rebellion sweeps across Amestris and a failed assassination reveals a terrifying plot against the State, Brigadier-General Edward Elric and Colonel Alphonse Elric are dispatched with orders to stop the rebels at all costs. The only problem is that the rebels have traveled twelve years into the past.

**Chapter 8**

The past was silent for the longest time. The most excitement took place when the State Alchemist Killer appeared in a remote village in the East. Basque Gran was killed, and Edward and Tim Marco came close more than once. It was a massive surprise to more than one person when a motorized vehicle on two wheels, ridden by a figure in black leather pants with military boots and the military uniform jacket with a familiar red duster with a flamel emblazoned on it in black, his head encased in a helmet roared past the military vehicle Roy was in, and into the city that Scar had chased the Fullmetal and Crystal Alchemists into.

"What was that?" Jean Havoc spluttered as he recognized the jacket.

Roy blinked. "What kind of vehicle is that?!" he wondered, "It doesn't look very safe to me…"

Riza Hawkeye frowned, "I'm more concerned about the speed he's going at in this rain. I'm surprised Edward hasn't crashed yet. Two wheels can't possibly provide adequate traction in such wet conditions."

~*~

Hughes and Mustang were in the backseat of a military car being driven by Hawkeye.

"When I allowed Fullmetal to requisition one of the prototype motorcycles, I didn't think he'd be taking it out in the rain with the intention of going after Scar," Mustang muttered darkly.

"Aww," Hughes grinned, "You're going all protective again, Roy."

"Shut up, Hughes," the Lieutenant General growled, "You know I care for all of my men."

"Not like with Ed," Hughes sighed, "You don't get possessive with Hawkeye or Havoc or Armstrong or even me like you do with Ed. Hell, Roy, you don't even get possessive when Elysia and Al get in trouble, and we all know you care about them also."

"Ed's one of our best alchemists…"

"Denial~!" Hughes sang, "Tell him, Hawkeye!"

"Sir, I agree with the Major General," Hawkeye said, "From the very beginning, you never could think logically where Edward was concerned."

"And the two of you are here also."

"Someone needs to be your logic," Hughes said, "And it's been raining."

"You're useless in the rain, sir," Hawkeye agreed.

"Ganging up on me again," Mustang sighed, "Fullmetal would be so pleased."

~*~

"This is so surreal," Edward murmured as he pulled off his helmet and watched as his younger self ran past, dragging Tim Marco along and Al clanking behind them. "Honestly, this was not what I was expecting when I agreed to investigate rumors of the rebels' presence out here. Geez…" He quickly clapped and pressed his hands to the ground, forming a wall to block off the back of the alley to hide the vehicle and strode off following the sounds of metal clanking. He stepped off a curb, and immediately leapt back to avoid being hit by an obviously military car.

"Geez, Hawkeye!" the Brigadier General roared as the window was rolled down and he recognized the driver, "I thought Havoc was supposed to be the reckless driver of the pair of you!"

"Sorry sir!" Hawkeye seemed flustered.

"Gate above," Edward groused, "No more trying to kill me! I have more than enough people out for my blood, most of whom are Drachman!" He shook his head then asked with a wry quirk of his lips, "Let me guess, Gran's dead, Marco's missing, Ed and Al are in the vicinity and Scar's on the loose?" Three sets of confused and surprised eyes blinked at him and Edward grinned as he pointed down the street, "Keep going as you were. You'll run into Scar soon enough." He fished out his watch and flipped it open, glancing at the time and added as he put the timepiece away, "Armstrong should be pulling Ed and Al to safety right about now, so if you keep going, you should have the chance to make a fool of yourself, Must-Holy shit!"

"Ed!"

Edward ducked and felt the air shift as a bullet passed over his head and hit the wall behind him. "Dammit!" he growled, pressing himself against the side of car as he pulled his sidearm out and checked it over, "Why does this always happen to me?! It's not like I run around destroying cities anymore! I'm the one signing papers now!"

"Because you're a magnet for trouble?" Jean laughed as he scuttled out of the car to crouch beside Edward.

"Tell you what," Edward growled, "Havoc and I go down that way," he pointed toward an alley not too far away, "And while the enemy tries to shoot us in the back, Hawkeye, you get the Colonel out of here!"

"Um, Boss?" Havoc said, "Not a good idea…" He pointed at the gaggle of poorly hidden people toting guns in said alley.

"Che," Edward tossed his head, "I'm the Fullmetal Alchemist. Do you doubt my ability to keep you alive?"

"Not in the least Edward," Hawkeye pulled the door shut and started up the car.

"On three!" Edward called, gathering his feet beneath him, Havoc doing the same beside him. "Three!"

Before Hawkeye had completely gunned the engine, Edward and Havoc were running for the alley, guns blazing. Roy chanced a look back as the tires squealed an the car roared away, and felt his heart clench to see the back of that familiar red coat and long braid racing headlong into danger.

"He'll be fine, sir," Hawkeye said, voice tense as bullets pinged off the metal of the car, "Havoc is with him, and Edward, the Brigadier General, that is, has a point. You're too important to the future to loose."

Roy sat back, muscles tense and ready to duck if necessary. "I don't feel important."

"But Brigadier General Elric thinks you are," Hawkeye said, "I had a talk with his aide, Lieutenant Clyne. She said that Edward believed that you were important enough to take five bullets for you over the course of three years, and the fifth was the only one you knew about."

"But he hates me…"

Hawkeye twisted the wheel hard, and once the car straightened, she snarled, "Edward doesn't hate you, sir! If you would only stop picking on him for a bit, you would see that he respects and looks up to you! And if Edward Elric hates you, Colonel, then why, in the future, would Edward emulate you in almost every way? Why would he refuse to be promoted unless you were? Why would he stay in the military under the condition that he remains under your command long after his childhood goals have been achieved? Why would he take five bullets in three years for you? He will save your life no less than six times in Drachma and nearly die each time from the effort! You are important, sir, and Edward knows it!"

Silence reigned in the car, and Mustang cocked his head after a few minutes. "I think they've stopped shooting at us."

Hawkeye frowned concentrating and nodded, slowing the car. "True."

~*~

"How the hell did this place turn into a warzone?!" Havoc yelled.

"Very easily," Eward grunted as he ducked under a gun, pressed the muzzle of his own sidearm under the gunman's chin and pulled the trigger, and in the same moment lashed out with his automail blade, drawing it easily across and through a man's torso, while simultaneously shifting and firing his sidearm into the face of a man attempting to sneak up behind him with a knife.

Havoc had ducked behind a trashcan, and was shooting around his makeshift cover, and as he stopped to reload, he stared at the older version of the youngest member of their team. This version of the Fullmetal killed so easily. Ed, the Ed he'd known for the past four years, had always gone out of his way to take his opponents alive, even when they wanted him dead, but this older Edward… He kicked a body off his blade, and sliced through another man's throat in the same motion while his gun discharged with frightening accuracy into heads and hearts with little more than a brief glance, usually without even looking! Havoc's heart clenched. This wasn't right. He didn't want this. Not for Ed. Ed shouldn't have to learn how to kill. He shouldn't be able to kill with such frightening ease. Ed shouldn't be a Brigadier General at his age. He should be back in Risembool, with Al, going on dates or free lancing as a civilian alchemist. Certainly not… not this…

"Havoc?"

The blonde lieutenant jerked, and an automail arm knocked the gun away from a pale face framed by golden hair.

"Ah! Sorry Ed!"

"Geez, Havoc! Watch it! What the hell were you thinking about so hard anyway?"

Havoc shivered and looked away from the surreal picture of a taller, leaner, colder Edward Elric, clothing slightly rumpled from the fight and splattered in blood and gore, but straight backed, careless, proud and commanding in a way only high ranking military officers could manage.

"Nothing Boss," Havoc said as tawny eyes narrowed and weight was shifted in a way that was reminiscent of the Flame Alchemist when he knew his staff was lying to him, "Just thinking how like Chief you've grown to become."

Tawny eyes gentled. "If you go on about how Mustang's not the best of role models," Edward said quietly, "I'll shoot you. I get enough of that from your future. Now get up Lieutenant, and let's see if we can't catch up with Lieutenant Hawkeye and the Colonel."

Havoc took the proffered white gloved hand, and found himself hauled to his feet by the diminutive Brigadier General, and they took off running down the street.

~*~

Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang surveyed the carnage within the alley, noting small telltale signs of who had been there. "What the hell happened?" he wondered.

"Looks like someone took cover behind a trashcan and fired from there," Major General Maes Hughes said. "And most of this looks like Ed's work."

"Looks like Fullmetal was on the right track then," Mustang murmured.

"But knowing Ed," Hughes replied, "He probably wasn't here just to investigate the PPP and the PA's presence. Remember what else happened out here?"

"Scar," Mustang's eyes widened, "Shit! That little pain in the ass!" He spun around and ran for the car.

~*~

Major Edward Elric, at sixteen years old had always known the dangers of being a military dog, and only recently had those dangers really slapped him in the face in the form of an invasion from the future, leading to his older self setting up shop in Eastern Headquarters and coming and going with troops in and out of the Command Building at all hours of the day and the night, much to the chagrin of more than one janitor and late night patrol. Of course, he'd never come across his older self dropping a cadaver to the floor and very calmly wiping blood off his automail before either.

"Ah… Brigadier General?"

Tawny eyes swept over them, "Oh, Edward and Alphonse," the Brigadier General said in a tone akin to one used when discussing the weather, "Good evening."

Tim Marco stared between the two blondes, shocked by the similarities between them. The Brigadier General smirked in a very disconcerting way and said lightly, "So this is the Crystal Alchemist, hmm?" and stepped toward the three alchemists and to the haggard man's concern, Ed and Al stepped aside to let the older blonde pass.

"I've heard a lot about your research…" the Brigadier General purred, eyes gleaming darkly. "I would be most interested to learn more about the refining process for the explosive crystal that was used in the later days of Ishbal… We never did get your report on the subject after all…"

Tim Marco swallowed hard and tried not to sigh in relief when the blonde turned to the two children. "And Edward, I hope you are taking Major Havoc's lessons to heart?"

Ed nodded and shifted his black jacket to reveal the gun holstered at his side. Edward nodded in approval. "Don't hesitate to use it," the General said, "Even if it means taking a life at point blank range, your life is precious to the future. Remember it."

Ed smiled at his older self, "Hearing it from my future makes me really believe it."

The Brigadier General tilted his head, and tawny eyes slid toward the far side of the street and narrowed. "That's good then," Edward said calmly, "a little reinforcement never hurt anyone. But for now, it would be best to hurry. You'll meet with Mustang soon enough. Lieutenant Havoc, kindly escort the boys and their… target… to safety."

Havoc stepped gingerly out of the shadows, normally clear eyes haunted as they lit upon the two teens and their target, then flitting over to Edward's older self.

"And you, sir?" he asked.

"You know better than to ask that," Edward said with a distant smile.

Havoc nodded, "Very well. Let's go, Ed."

The four had not gotten very far when an explosion attracted their attention, and Ed looked back in time to see his older self vault over Scar's head, gun in hand, automail blade scoring a line across the Ishbalan's face, missing his right eye by a hairs breadth. His breath caught as his older self used the Ishbalan's outstretched, arrayed arm as a lever by which Scar was thrown quickly away from the group.

"Don't look back, kid!" Havoc cried, grabbing Ed's arm and dragging him away. "Keep running, Boss!"

~*~

And run they did, until they were nearly run over by a military car being driven by Colonel Hawkeye.

"Shit!" Havoc cursed as he pulled Ed out of the way of the car, "Jeez! What's with you and nearly getting run over by Hawkeye? This is the second time she's nearly killed you today!"

The window rolled down, "Where's Fullmetal?" Lieutenant Colonel Mustang demanded.

"That way," Al pointed as the door swung open. "The Brigadier General…"

"Is fighting Scar," Mustang grunted, "I know," and then he was disappearing into the distance, Hughes close behind him.

~*~

Edward smirked indulgently as the Ishbalan raged in his general direction once more. This was the enemy that he and Alphonse had taken so seriously in their childhoods? No, he quickly shook the arrogant thought away. That was the sort of thinking that had gotten Basque Gran killed. Scar was a man, a misguided and angry man, yes, but a man nevertheless, and it was the fact that he was sure of the justice in his actions and fierce in the anger he held close to his heart that made Scar dangerous to begin with. And dangerous men were always dangerous, no matter what the circumstance of the meeting was under; especially so if you had just saved your sixteen year old counterpart from said dangerous man.

Oh dear. That sounded so strange!

"You…" Scar snarled, "How could you! Your brother is but a child!"

Edward blinked as the Ishbalan's voice suddenly penetrated his thoughts. Ah?

"I beg your pardon?" he muttered, "Edward is no child. Has not been since his mother died."

"That is not a passable reason to throw a child into the kennels!"

"Kennels?" Edward nearly tripped at the strangely appropriate term to denote the military headquarters and found himself pressed against a wall, Scar's unarrayed forearm pressed against his throat.

"I should kill you before you lead that child any farther into darkness."

Edward gasped as the pressure on his windpipe increased, and his fingers scrabbled for his sidearm, belatedly realizing that the way he was pinned meant that he wouldn't be able to reach the holster, any of them, and he couldn't transmute because his automail was in a blade form, and he'd have to reach around Scar…

"Get your hands off of him!" a voice roared and Edward's eyes snapped toward the entrance of the alleyway as the familiar snap and crackle of Mustang's alchemy lit the air in waves of gold, red and ochre even as a Scar jerked in pain and surprise, a push knife embedded in his shoulder.

He slammed his automail foot upwards, shoving the man away from him, and staggered to the side, into Hughes, who pulled him way quickly even as Mustang advanced on the State Alchemist Killer, his face a dark mask of fury.

~*~

Lieutenant General Roy Mustang had never been so furious as when he'd seen Edward stumble and get pinned by Scar. Hell, he'd never felt as if he was on the verge of loosing something precious, not even the time Maes had spent unconscious had done this to him. The closest he could place this sinking sensation coupled with a fierce protective rage was when Ed had gone missing, only to return a eighteen months later, bloody, battered, and oh, so horribly broken in body and spirit, unable to speak for grief and horror of what he'd seen. By the infernal Gate he never wanted to feel that way again, never wanted Edward in such a position again, but Edward… The Fullmetal seemed determined to kill him by tearing his heart out, by throwing himself into situations that could get him _killed_. It was a thought that he found unendurable, because dammit! Maes was right, he didn't just care about Ed; he cared _for_ him, in a less than parental and in more than a purely platonic fashion.

He rasped his fingers together, only distantly aware that he was shouting, "Get your hands off of him!"

~*~

Edward slumped in Hughes' arms, wondering dizzily at his luck. Wow.

"Why is it that one or another of you always shows up in time to save my bacon?" he wondered groggily.

"Because you're an idiot, Ed," Hughes' voice was thick with relief. "Don't you ever get tired of getting into trouble all the time?"

"It's not like I go looking for trouble!" Edward protested, the quick surge of indignation was more than enough to chase away the haze of lethargy.

There was a low rumble and the two officers looked up as Mustang snapped again, and Scar bolted out of the alley as Mustang sent several explosions in succession after him.

"Ah! And he complains about my causing damage during fights!" Edward sighed as the dust settled to reveal several large craters in the ground. He stood up shakily and sighed in irritation as he realized that his ankle had gotten twisted when he'd stumbled earlier. "Oh, great. Just what I needed to make a magnificent day even better."

"Well, at least you're alive, right?" Hughes asked as he braced Edward's injured side, allowing the Brigadier General to limp along under his own power. "And Hawkeye's with the car not too far away from here, so everything will be just fine!"

"That makes me feel so much better," Edward muttered sarcastically.

~*~

Both groups, present and future met up at the Headquarters, and both versions of the Fullmetal Alchemist exchanged bemused looks as soon as they realized that this was the first time that both versions of the entire group, with the exception of Alphonse, had been in the same place at the same time.

~*~

TBC…


	10. 9: Secrets in the Dark

**Title:** The Heart of Everything: The Song of the Forge Volume 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

**Summary:** When whispers of a Rebellion sweeps across Amestris and a failed assassination reveals a terrifying plot against the State, Brigadier-General Edward Elric and Colonel Alphonse Elric are dispatched with orders to stop the rebels at all costs. The only problem is that the rebels have traveled twelve years into the past.

**Chapter 9**

Eastern Headquarters and Central City suddenly woke up one day to find the time travelers were gone. For Central City, the change had been gradual, a few soldiers a day over a period of time. But for Eastern City, the only warning that the time travelers were leaving came in the form of the barrier that hid a patch of empty wall in Colonel Roy Mustang's outer office and Major Edward Elric, who studied a small leather bound book which his older self had passed to him in the hall just outside of said office.

"Don't let anyone know you have this," the Brigadier General had murmured, "I don't know if the advance squad will return, but if we don't, remember what I told you about self control, and when Winry insists on going to Rush Valley, I suggest you send Al with her and you stay in Central for a week or so and watch the phone booth outside of Headquarters. Hughes might survive the bullet, several weeks unconscious took more out of him than a lifetime in the military. Not only that, we were missing crucial information that only Hughes would have picked up on." Tawny eyes hardened, "Whatever happens, Edward, remember; though this may just be the ending of the life we hold so dear. If you don't make it, some one else will. Stand your ground."

It would be the last anyone would see of the time travelers for a while.

~*~

"By the infernal Gate, as if we didn't have enough problems!" Edward sighed as he closed the file with gentle and deliberate movements.

Mustang studied the group of soldiers, the five officers, himself, Hughes, Armstrong, Edward, and Alphonse, all seated while their respective staffs stood behind their commanding officers.

"It's not as though it was unexpected," the Strong Arm Alchemist said mournfully. "There was the concern that Creta would take advantage of the chaos that the country is in to attack."

"Well," Hughes said with false cheer, "At least Fuhrer Armstrong is trying to end this quickly by sending out the heavy hitters first instead of waiting."

"It's a good strategy," Edward agreed, "This way, the conflict won't drag on longer than it has to, and it won't be too much of a burden on an already strained treasury. But really, Drachma has only just ended…"

"Four years of peace is simply not long enough," Alphonse agreed.

"We can't do anything about it," Mustang's face and voice was devoid of all emotion, "the Fuhrer wants us out south, so it's out south with us. Fullmetal…"

"Yeah, yeah, I got it," Edward shook his head, "I'll have my people start packing. We'll go out and see if I can talk the people out of outright rebellion, just like last time. But the PPP and the PA…"

"Don't worry about it," Hughes said, "Al will be taking over the investigations for the time being. Besides, it's almost as if we've been looking in the wrong time all along."

"There's always the possibility," Alphonse agreed, brown eyes troubled.

Edward looked ill, but he nodded his agreement anyway. "Yeah, in which case, how much has changed without our knowing?"

"Let's not think about that," Mustang said suddenly. "Fullmetal, do what you do best and try to win the people back over to us. Al, try to find out how far forward or back the PPP and the PA have gone. Hughes, as always, keep us posted on whatever the hell is important. Alex, keep dealing with what's left of the PPP and PA. The rest of us will start on our way down to Creta, and Fullmetal, if you can't convince them by the second round, don't keep trying. Just go South. You're more useful as a combat alchemist than a diplomat trying to get a treaty out of a brick wall."

"Yes sir," Edward nodded. He might not like it, but Mustang had a point after all.

~*~

One month later, the Gate flared to life in Colonel Roy Mustang's outer office again, but this time, it closed behind Colonel Alphonse Elric and his forty man team. It was a grim atmosphere that settled over the office when Colonel Elric informed them that the future Amestris was at war with Creta, and that the Fullmetal was on internal diplomatic detail and was due to be transferred to the frontlines once again. Colonel Alphonse Elric, on the other hand, was tasked with finding out where and when the rebels had transferred their forces since the invasion of the sewer systems of Eastern City.

It was in the month that Colonel Alphonse Elric was present without Edward or other versions of the future present that people began realizing the differences between the young Al and the war hardened Colonel. Major Elric made plans to send his brother to stay with their teacher in Dublith, and Colonel Mustang and Lieutenant Colonel Hughes and their respective staffs began making plans to protect Ed and Al when the Drachman Campaigns inevitably started.

In the meantime, Ed abandoned research into the Philosopher's Stone in favor of something few had ever attempted, transmuting the air and light and drawing water directly from the atmosphere. Unbeknownst to others, however, he set about gathering open minded allies from within and without the military. Not that it was hard, the foundation had already been laid by the older Edward, though unintentionally as officers, seeing the type of soldier that the Fullmetal would grow into, were impressed, and desired to help mold him into such, while the allegiance of the civilians, already awed by the rumors of the Fullmetal, a National Alchemist who worked for the people, were easy enough to gain.

It was two months after Colonel Elric's return to the past that during one of the bi-weekly staff meetings that Major Elric, who usually ignored the meeting in favor of scribbling some theory or other in his notebook, paused in the organizing of his plans in said notebook; that he came to a startling conclusion. His consumption of his research budget had gone down drastically over the course of the five months in which the future had invaded the past, and not only that, he'd started putting what he did not consume of his paycheck into savings. He'd even started eating the mess hall's slop rather than eating out, and that he'd started going with the least troublesome route in his missions, and therefore had fewer problems with his automail, which in turn meant that he was not constantly returning to Risembool for repairs, and rather than going to some random mechanic for tune-ups did it himself, all of which cut down his spending. He was growing up and maturing, but not only that, he was becoming very much like the image that his older self had often projected, an image of immaculate calm with a plan for every possible contingency. He had contacts in a budding information network to gather his information, he had an ever-growing network of allies to call in if needed, his bank account was growing and with it, a source for bribes and if needed, a supplement for his research budget, and he was beginning to develop some very heavy political clout. He was becoming an efficient officer of the military, and his reputation as a good, reliable dog was growing in the ranks of the upper echelons of the Amestrian military.

He was becoming a reasonable person, much like Mustang was. And Major Edward Elric was finding that with military tangles easier to navigate, he rather liked this new lifestyle of his.

~*~

TBC…


	11. 10: The Line between Reasonable & Broken

**Title:** The Heart of Everything: The Song of the Forge Volume 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

**Summary:** When whispers of a Rebellion sweeps across Amestris and a failed assassination reveals a terrifying plot against the State, Brigadier-General Edward Elric and Colonel Alphonse Elric are dispatched with orders to stop the rebels at all costs. The only problem is that the rebels have traveled twelve years into the past.

**Chapter 10**

Brigadier General Edward Elric leaned back in the rickety chair, propping his feet up on the desk, one elbow on the arm of the chair, chin in hand as he looked over the papers in his free hand. The tawny eyed officer was unperturbed by the sounds of cannon fire and gunfire, and even the scorched ozone scent of alchemy and the scent of blood and gunpowder and the screaming of the wounded and dying didn't bother him. It had been several years since the previous war, but even the passing of the years could not change the fact that he was a hardened soldier, one who was used to the battlefields, and the sounds that accompanied it. It didn't even matter that the command base was a good ways away from the actual battlefield itself.

"Humph," he tossed the papers onto the desk. "Reasonable, huh? Kid worked faster than I expected."

"So even you can't predict yourself?" Major General Hughes leaned against the desk, grinning. "Quite the shock, especially considering how enamored the kid was with you."

"He was enamored by the image, not the consequences. I'll need to ask Al to temper his responses to this new found power. The Fullmetal won't be of much help keeping the people from outright rebellion during the Drachma Campaigns if word gets out that the Hero of the People is becoming a proper military dog."

"Or you could go do it yourself," Lieutenant General Mustang grinned. "We can stand to be without you for a while. We did pretty well for ourselves in the three months you were touring the country."

"More like fleeing it," Edward grumbled.

"But you can't say that you didn't receive a warm welcome in certain places," Hughes said cheerfully.

"Places where I grew up and places that I visited often don't count. Those people are biased toward me." Edward allowed his feet to hit the tent's canvas floor with a muffled thump and stood up from the chair. "As for dealing with the increasingly reasonable sixteen year old Major Ed Elric before he becomes entirely too reasonable and falls into the category of corrupt," he flicked his ponytail over his shoulder and gave his Superior Officers a roguish smirk, "that I can do."

Mustang and Hughes knew the younger General long enough to know what he was planning, and so perhaps they were not so surprised when Edward clapped and pressed his hands to the ground, and canvas back of the tent shimmered and snapped into focus to reveal Colonel Mustang's office in Eastern Headquarters, with a young Fullmetal and Flame in the middle of a debriefing. Neither were they surprised when the Brigadier General stepped through the Gate and in one smooth motion, backhanded his younger self across the face.

The same could not be said, however, for the younger Colonel Roy Mustang and his staff.

"When I told you to be reasonable," Edward hissed at his younger self as he hauled the boy up by his collar with his automail arm, "I did not mean for you to become overly reasonable. Imagine my surprise to receive a personal letter from, of all people, General Raven, concerning the sale of a set of prototype automatic weaponry from, apparently, my private stock. When I told you to be reasonable, I didn't mean dive head first into corruption! You will either behave yourself, or I will call in an old favor from one of my contacts in Xing to deal with you, do I make myself clear, Edward Elric?"

The boy swallowed hard and nodded. Then a shout from the other side of the Gate, and an ominous whistling and Mustang and Hughes flung themselves through the Gate.

"Ed, close it!" Mustang roared.

Edward never took his eyes off his younger self as he raised his free hand and snapped his fingers. The gate snapped shut, but not before the tent exploded in flames and a gout of fire and shrapnel came through the rapidly closing Gate. Mustang snuffed the flames with a quick snap, but nothing would stop the debris from imbedding itself in the walls and furniture. Fortunately, no one was hurt, except maybe the younger Ed, but that was because he had just gotten slapped.

"What the hell just happened?" Colonel Mustang asked as calmly as he was able despite crawling out from under a charred desk.

"Stray shell just hit the command tent," Edward replied, negligently tossing his younger self onto the miraculously unharmed couch, "Not much of a problem. I'll give it a few minutes for the conflagration to cool down before I open the Gate again. No sense letting the rank and file spread rumors about the Heroes of the Drachma Campaigns going down because of a lucky shot on Creta's part." The Brigadier General's face was serene as he added, "After all, I have every intention of making it rain blood in Creta in retaliation."

"As you always did in Dachma every time they thought they'd killed you," Major General Hughes said wryly as he rose from behind the desk with Lieutenant General Mustang. The three generals studiously ignored the shocked looks on the faces of the office's occupants.

"Damn," he whistled as bespectacled green eyes took in the scorched ceiling and the shrapnel imbedded in the walls, "You couldn't have taken any longer to close that thing, could you?"

"Any faster and it would have closed on us, Maes," Mustang sighed. "Now would be a good time for us to return, Brigadier General. It looks like the pup will have to be disciplined another time."

"Or we can arrange for him to learn the hard way three years early," Edward's tone was eerily reminiscent of a younger Flame Alchemist when he was well and truly furious but in no position to show it.

"Let's leave that for later," Hughes said.

Edward shrugged, "As the General wishes." He clapped his hands, pressed them against a blank patch of blackened wall, and the Gate swirled open.

Mustang clicked his fingers as he stepped through the Gate, snuffing the flames almost effortlessly as Hughes and Edward followed him obediently. The last thing anyone could be sure of was that the two older Generals were barking orders against a background of gunfire while Edward closed the Gate, leaving the office empty of the future once again.

Throughout all of this, the younger Fullmetal cowered, and Lieutenant General Grumman, who was arriving with a sheaf of papers for Colonel Mustang, blinked in confusion.

~*~

War was an ugly thing. There was no glory, no heroics, simply adrenaline and fear and the screams of the dying and the dim roar of cannon fire and the sharp retorts of gunfire. Seared flesh and gunpowder and smoke and the copper tang of blood flooded the senses and it was not inconceivable that a soldier could go made out there, and go mad some did. Veteran soldiers like the Flame and Fullmetal Alchemists slogged through strategists and tacticians, went out to bark commands and in some cases, to actually wreak havoc onto the battlefields.

Duty and compassion had no place out here, not when the jungle threatened to swallow them whole, Amestrians and Cretans both, never mind that the Cretans had the home field advantage. Only a part of the southern section of Amestris was jungle, and these soldiers, more used to warfare in desert sand or green plains and lightly wooded forests were at a loss. Even so, when the Strong Arm, Flame, and Fullmetal Alchemists came out, it was a guarantee that a good portion of the jungle would be reduced to ash and fallen trees, not that it made the fight any easier. The Cretans seemed to vanish into the jungle as quickly as they had appeared once the big names in Amestrian Alchemy came out. They learned from Drachma not to face the Amestrian Alchemists man to man. Better to shoot them from far away, but the Flame didn't care if he was burning humans or wood, the Strong Arm had difficulties finding enough stone to work with, and the Fullmetal was the most devastating of the three.

Corporal Eric Lenscher watched as his CO clapped his hands, and pressed them to the ground, and the entire jungle seemed to turn on the Cretans. Then the General Mustang snapped, and the entire section of jungle went up in a flash of fire. He felt a surge of pride. This was the crème de la crème of the Amestrian National Alchemist forces, and he was sure that for as long as Flame and Fullmetal commanded this field, victory would not be far. They had the Hero of Ishbal and the People's Alchemist with them after all. There was no way that they could fail here, not with the most powerful alchemists in Amestris supporting them.

~*~

**Back in the Past…**

Eastern City was a mass of confusion. Ed Elric had, in the space of several months, changed drastically, going from loudmouthed brat to moderately well behaved teenager to model military dog and back to loudmouthed brat with moments of good behavior here and there. Colonel Roy Mustang had no doubt it was because the boy was on edge, waiting for the other shoe to fall. Whatever had prompted the boy's good behavior previously, probably had unforeseen consequences that the older Fullmetal did not like, and the younger Fullmetal was waiting for his older analogue to tear him a new one. For some strange reason, it seemed that Fullmetal really valued what his older analogue thought of him.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Roy turned slowly in his swivel chair, and laid his eyes on Alphonse Elric. There were changes in this Elric also. As children, Alphonse Elric and Edward Elric were inseparable, they did almost everything but bathe together, and it seemed that it hadn't changed much, other than the lack of the younger Elric's armor. But to know that Eastern City's golden boy and his kind hearted brother would grow up to be a highly efficient killer…. But there was a difference, Roy realized as he studied Alphonse Elric. Edward Elric had a ruthless streak a mile wide, and was growing into the position of a General, learning to sacrifice for the greater good, while Alphonse's ruthless streak didn't seem to be developing at all, instead, he seemed to be cultivating a compassionate streak.

"Colonel Elric," Roy greeted the young man.

The Colonel inclined his head with a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "You seemed very deep in your thoughts. Perhaps I can help you sort them out?"

"How did your brother go from Fullmetal to Blood Rain?"

Alphonse's face shuttered, and his eyes turned dark with sorrow. "I didn't see the actual event, since it was at the start of the war, and I was in Risembool getting used to having my body back, but I do know this much. The advent of war meant that the new Fuhrer, incompetent as he was, knew the importance of good PR, and sent brother out to keep the people from outright rebellion, correctly predicting that the common people surely would not attack their hero and would at least toe the line when he was trying to protect them… Once he reported back to Central, Fuhrer Hakuro sent him out to the Frontlines. Once there, General Wood did his best to protect brother, and had him serve as his personal aide. About a year into the campaign, General Wood was killed by a stray shell that struck the command tent… The Strong Arm Alchemist was the one who pulled him out of the debris…"

~*~

_An explosion rocked the encampment, flinging shrapnel and debris into the air._

"_What the hell was that?!"_

_Soldiers rushed in the direction of the explosion, realizing with horror as they got closer that the explosion had come from the command tent. The area had been leveled, and bits and pieces of officers were scattered about. There were quiet moans of pain from whomever survived, but it was the metal arm that protruded from the rubble that held the most attention._

"_Edward-kun!" Alex cried, and started digging frantically through the rubble where the arm was. Immediately, soldiers joined in. The Fullmetal had barely turned seventeen, too young to die on a battlefield because of a stray shell. He was their source of morale, after all, wasn't the Fullmetal the one to lessen antimilitary feelings? They weren't going to let the child die._

_Miraculously, Armstrong pulled out a mostly unharmed blonde out of the rubble. A pole had gone through his lower torso, the medic said, and had, fortunately, missed any vital organs although it did punch through a kidney. They had to remove the damaged kidney, but that was the worst of his injuries. Other than a broken arm, some damaged automail, minor cuts and bruises and a concussion, the teen was in good health._

_General raven had been sent down to replace General Wood, and he was not so kind as his predecessor. Once the Fullmetal was sufficiently recovered, he sent the teen out to cause havoc against the enemy. When the sun rose the next morning, the enemy half of the field was covered in red ice, and the Fullmetal was slogging back across no man's land, covered in blood, a Drachman rifle clutched in his left hand, and his right, dragging an unconscious Amestrian soldier…_

_Three days later, the Fullmetal received a field promotion from Major to Lieutenant Colonel, and was sent to Briggs. It was there that Olivier Armstrong first called the Fullmetal by the name Blood Rain Alchemist, because wherever he was sent against the enemy, he made it rain blood._

~*~

"…Brother has lived up to that moniker since. If those he cares for are threatened, he reduces the threat to a shower of blood and gore using a similar deconstruction technique as Scar did." Alphonse's voice turned bitter, "No one seems to see the damage Brother takes every time he kills."

"And what damage is that?"

Alphonse gave the Colonel a bland stare, "He manipulated Fuhrer Hakuro into making greater and greater mistakes. He arranged for the foundation of rebellions, and then once the rebellions cut away Hakuro's support, he cut them down without remorse. Everyone says he resembles the General, but that's not true. The more ruthless Brother's actions becomes, the less he resembles Mustang, and resembles Bradley more. You taught Brother how to manipulate people, General Wood taught Brother how to persevere, General Raven taught Brother how to kill, but Fuhrers Bradley and Hakuro taught Brother how to fall. And Brother is falling, right now and at the rate he is going, he will destroy himself."

"But you are very much like your brother. Aren't you in similar danger?"

"You say I am like brother, but how? Am I like the Fullmetal you know, a quintessentially good boy despite his prickly exterior, or the General who is so ruthless in the pursuing of his mission that he barely pauses to spare a thought about the collateral damage he causes?"

Roy studied Alphonse and then realized something. "You're not changing very much from who you were as a teenager are you?" he murmured, "that's why while your brother is developing a ruthless streak to rival Bradley's, you are busy trying to stop him. You don't want him to rise any higher do you?"

"He's destroying himself!"

"He's growing up, and you don't see it." The Flame sighed, "I understand now, why people are so upset. You and your brother were together for a long time, and then he went to war, and when he came back hurt and changed, you followed him, because you wanted him to be the Edward you knew. While Edward grew into his position and started to develop a ruthless streak that any commissioned officer requires, you tried to pull him back since you didn't agree. Alphonse, the person who is falling isn't Edward, but you. People see your reactions, and because you were never one to dissemble, they assume things are worse than they seem."

"That's not true!"

"Al…"

"No!" Alphonse yelled, "That's not how it is!"

"It is very much how it is!" Roy barked, startling Alphonse into silence. "We never interacted much, but I'm starting to see the pattern here. Your brother is working toward a goal, one that he's refusing to share and you just can't stand it can you? You want things to go back to when you were children, so you followed your brother into the military, but once the contract was over, your brother renewed it for the sake of a goal. But you don't have one, do you? Whatever goals you might have made, you threw away in favor of trying to reclaim what you had before the war, but you didn't like what you saw. If you're unhappy with being in the military, Alphonse, then quit! Your brother is happy as he is, but you're so caught up in wanting to be fifteen again that you can't even see it! I might not be your General, but even I can see that Fullmetal tenses up in your presence the way he never used to. The only person who is falling is you, Al, because your brother is thriving in the military environment, and you just want things to go back to how they were when you were children."

"That's not true…" Alphonse murmured weakly.

"It is," Roy said firmly, "I can't believe I didn't see it sooner. It's no wonder the older Ed is simultaneously uncomfortable around you and overprotective."

"That's not true… Brother… Brother hates the military…"

"You hate the military," Roy said gently, "Stop trying to project on your brother. All you're doing is hurting him. If this keeps up, it's not Ed who will fall, but you. Ed's doing well if what I last saw was any indication, but you're not doing so well are you?"

"That's…"

"All true."

Alphonse spun around to see the Brigadier General behind him. "Brother! When did you get here?"

"Right about when you started yelling at me," Roy said dryly. "Did you enjoy the show, Fullmetal?"

"Immensely," the Brigadier General's reply was as dry as the Colonel's. "Creta surrendered, and General Mustang and General Hughes have accompanied Fuhrer Armstrong to the signing of the treaty. Colonel Elric is to report to Central City for new orders."

"Already?!" Colonel Elric's voice was incredulous, "But it hasn't even been three months!"

"The time in which the Gate is opened can be controlled, Alphonse," Edward's voice was cold. "It's been a year on our side. I will take over the investigation here. Now go."

"But…"

"No Alphonse. Go. Now."

Alphonse deflated and nodded. He left the inner office and stepped through the gate in a sullen silence.

Edward studied Roy and nodded. "Thank you," he said quietly, "We've all been trying to come up with a way to tell Al these things gently, but it seems he never listened. Hearing it from you though… I think he's finally heard what we've been trying to say these past six years."

"I meant it though," Roy said quietly, "Military life seems to suit you when you're working on a goal for you and because of guilt for someone else."

Edward inclined his head, "It means a lot coming from you I think. If you'll excuse me…"

The Brigadier General turned on his heel and stalked out of the office.

Roy leaned back in his chair and sighed. He turned to his window and looked out, watching as a speck of red came dashing up the stairs. A lot of things had fallen into perspective, and while he still didn't like that Ed and Al would go through certain things, at least he could relax a little bit.

"They're growing up," Hawkeye's voice cut through his musings, "and at least we have an idea of what we can and cannot protect them from, and the type of people those two will become."

"Yeah," Roy agreed, "I'm glad we had this chance to know what lies in store, even if it's not the brightest future."

"We have time," Riza agreed, "We'll get through two wars, and the boys will live to see twenty six, and God willing, they'll live to be even older."

~*~

TBC…


	12. 11: Spiral

**Title:** The Heart of Everything: The Song of the Forge Volume 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

**Summary:** When whispers of a Rebellion sweeps across Amestris and a failed assassination reveals a terrifying plot against the State, Brigadier-General Edward Elric and Colonel Alphonse Elric are dispatched with orders to stop the rebels at all costs. The only problem is that the rebels have traveled twelve years into the past.

**Chapter 11**

Central City, Amestris—The Future

"…and as it turns out, the reason behind the lack of activity from the Perfect Peace People and the People's Army was because the PPP was doing their best to convince the PA that if they wanted to go militant, then they should be a militia since the army can't be everywhere at once, a sort of private owned army of sorts. The People's Army, of course, agreed, and the Parliament has convened to discuss the ramifications of such an act," Hughes grinned.

"And the reason for the array?" Mustang inquired, resting his chin on top of his laced fingers.

"The PPP think that it was planted. Apparently, they had regulated the warehouse to storage instead of using it as a meeting place since the PA seemed to have a nasty tendency of gate crashing. They wanted more security than a warehouse."

"Someone wanted us to suspect the PPP of terrorist actions then," Edward said, "But that brings up a more troubling question, if the PPP and the PA did not come up with the array, who did? If the array was planted, then why did they do it? Our search obviously, was a distraction, so what is being planned?"

"We can't be sure," Hughes shook his head, "But we do know that whoever planted and used the array is still changing things due to the discrepancies in records and the back up indexes. Frankly, having our younger analogues write and hide the original alchemical journals in the past where they can't be affected was brilliant, Ed. We'd never know that things were being changed otherwise."

"I don't like this," Edward sighed, "It's like chasing the Philosopher's Stone all over again, grasping at smoke and shadows and sliding back three steps for every two that we take. I didn't renew my contract with the military to chase myths and illusions." He glanced over to the couch where Alphonse lay unconscious, his eyes troubled. He'd been forced to knock out his brother when the blonde had gotten hysterical about the time difference, _'How could you do this to me? Why did you put another year's difference between us, brother? General, why did you let him! Mr. Hughes why didn't you stop them?'_ "Let's not forget that Al seems to have reached the end of his rope."

Mustang reached across the desk and took Edward's hand in his, feeling heartened when the blonde didn't withdraw from his grasp, "I know you were hoping this mission would snap Al out of it, but it doesn't change the fact that his discharge papers have been prepared since before all of this started. The recent outburst and the results of the recent psychiatric examination has only made it clear that he can no longer efficiently function as either an officer or a soldier. With his mental state as it is, we have no choice but to release him. Al is more likely to recover his mental equilibrium in Risembool than in Central, and it will give him a chance to develop as his own person instead of being a reflection of you. As his CO, all you have to do is sign."

Edward sighed. "I know, Mustang, I know." He squeezed his superior officer's hand gently in acknowledgement before extricating the appendage from the older General's grasp. "Where are the papers anyway?"

Mustang opened a drawer and pulled out a file which he placed in front of the blonde. Edward quickly flipped through the file and snatched a pen off the blotter, swiftly scrawling his signature on the designated lines and almost roughly shoved the file toward Mustang who received it gravely, slowly closing the file and putting it gently on the outbound pile of paperwork on his desk.

Edward finally broke the long silence that followed the completion of Alphonse's release papers, "So, Hughes," he studiously ignored the choked quality of his voice, and the two older generals did the same, "Any clues as to who planted the array? A general location maybe?"

"That's more of your forte, Ed," Hughes's smile was strained. "_'Never send a soldier to do an alchemist's job,'_ wasn't that what you told General Lester the year you were promoted to Brigadier General?"

Edward dropped his head onto Mustang's desk with a dull _'thunk'_.

Roy patted his shoulder sympathetically with a wry smirk. "Maybe this will remind you to think before you open your mouth."

"Shove off, Mustang."

Eastern City, Amestris—The Past

The atmosphere in Roy's office was tense as they listened to the not so quiet conversation taking place on the other side of the still open Gate. The blow up between the Elric brothers of the Future had been loud and messy; and Edward, who normally gave as good as he got, simply stood there, taking his brother's vitriol in silence, a troubled look in his eyes. It was clear then to everyone watching, that even before the talk in the older Mustang's office, Alphonse's outburst had confirmed something in Edward's mind and he was deeply hurt by it. To see a bond that they'd thought was strong enough to last through years turn out to have been twisted into something akin to an obsession on the part of the younger Elric-whom everyone had always believed to be the level headed one-suddenly fray and snap before their eyes was a disquieting sight, and the normally rambunctious staff ruled by the iron fist (and gun) of Hawkeye, was subdued and more productive than normal.

Al was obviously hurt and confused when no one would look him in the eye, and to no one's surprise, Ed was angry and snapping at anyone and everyone whenever he noticed the slump in Al's metal shoulders. The only thing was, he didn't seem very surprised or very confused at all whenever the adult members of Roy's staff made vague reference to the fight or the two brothers' closeness—or lack thereof. In fact, he seemed to understand and seemed to have known beforehand that something like this would occur; a fact that no one could prove or disprove.

More than one person was confused by the blonde's behavior, although Maes was suddenly convinced that Ed knew a great deal more about what was happening, had happened and would soon happen than he let on. The teen could often be seen poring over several scraps of papers, each of which seemed like bits and pieces of old literature or songs. The Intelligence Officer was convinced those scraps were a code of some sort, but whatever code it was, it was incomprehensible to all but the Fullmetal who was certainly not sharing.

_Bring it down. Bring it all down, then kill… Kill them all. Starting with the ones who took him from us…. Then we'll deal with the traitor… He's ours, OURS! He belongs to us! We'll kill them all and then he'll be ours again… He'll come back to us again once they're all dead…._

"Yes," the golden haired boy murmured, his voice too quiet to be heard, "Kill them all…"

The single black eye floating in the darkness shivered as cruel, mocking laughter rang through the air…. The boy slept on.

TBC…


End file.
